When Dark and Light Collide
by HarryPotter'sgirl17
Summary: Harry Potter has started at Hogwarts when he meets a Slytherin that steals his heart. How will these two survive in a school where they're suppose to be bitter enemies?
1. Meeting You

_**Hello, everyone! This is a new fan fic of mine since the other one is being a pain. Enjoy!**_

_**If I owned Harry Potter, the seventh book would be out by now!**_

**Chapter One: Meeting You**

Harry saw her first year, as everyone one had nervously lined up for the sorting. She was short, barely perceivable, and she rivaled Draco Malfoy in paleness. Her hair was the color of raven feathers, falling past her shoulders and curling at the end. It was a little messy, as if she had fallen asleep on the train and didn't comb it out when she awoke. Yet the most remarkable thing about her was her eyes.

They were an unbelievable combination of violet and blue, unlike anything Harry had ever seen before, twinkling with mirth when she laughed. Her laugh was unique as well. It reminded Harry of a wood chime swaying in a breeze. She had laughed when he had caught Neville Longbottom's Remembrall and ended up being the Seeker for the Gryffindor team, getting dirty looks from the other Slytherins.

That was the only problem; she was a Slytherin. Her name was Veronica Dathey and she was in the house where Dark Arts were a way of life and were Gryffindor's greatest enemies.

Yet, she didn't act like a Slytherin. Harry had walked by her once, tensing up, just _waiting_ for the insults that followed Slytherins the way stink follows pigs, but all he got was a "Hi, Harry!" before she darted off, blushing.

He had stopped; unable to comprehend that he had walked right by a _Slytherin_ without a nasty remark thrown his way. Remembering how her eyes had lightened when she saw him, Harry had to agree with Hermione that not all Slytherins were bad.

During that year she had always helped Hermione, Ron and Harry, despite Ron's sneers and the jibes from her classmates. Sometimes, it was hard to see who was smarter, Hermione or Veronica; for, every time a question was asked, they both had their hands up and both answered correctly.

The single incident that forever told Harry that Veronica was a creed upon herself was what happened after he got out of the dungeon with the Sorcerer's Stone.

Dumbledore had just left, along with everyone else that wanted exact details on what had happened, and Harry needed something to take his mind off what Dumbledore had told him for a minute, just to let it sink in.

He saw a bag, half hidden under all the other gifts from his 'admirers' and covered in Golden Snitches. It was obviously from someone who knew he loved Quidditch.

Dumping it out, he found something that absolutely made his day.

A humongous horde of Cauldron Cakes and a delicately written note:

_I heard they were your favorite._

_Veronica D._

When Harry was boarding the Hogwarts Express, he ran into Veronica heading toward the Slytherin compartment.

"Hi, Harry," she smiled, pushing her ebony curls out of her face, "What's up? Did you need me for something?"

"Do you want to sit with us?" Ever since the other Slytherins had found out that Veronica was chummy with Harry Potter, she had pretty much been ostricized.

Her eyes lit up with a glow that made Harry want to make her smile again as she said, "I'd love to, Harry, but I don't want your rep to be tarnished by having to sit with a Slytherin..."

Harry was disappointed and tried a new track, "Can I at least give you my address so you can owl me?"

"Of course!" On an impulse, Veronica engulfed him in a hug.

Harry felt a shock go through him that he had only felt when experiencing magic. Not only was someone hugging him of their own violation, but they seemed to enjoy doing so.

Veronica let go after a few seconds. "Oh! I'm sorry! I should have asked..."

"It's ok," Harry replied, still feeling a tingling sensation in his arms, "I've just never been hugged before..."

Veronica's face turned angry, giving her an almost animalistic beauty, "What kind of people do you live with?!"

"Nevermind," Harry didn't want to mar Veronica with a discussion of the Dursleys, "Here's my address, owl me when you can."

Veronica smiled and drew Harry into another hug, "Have a good summer and owl me back."

As Veronica walked off, Harry found himself wishing he knew the spell to make time fly.


	2. Finding a Connection

_**Hello, all! Here's chapter 2!**_

_**I still don't own Harry Potter.**_

**Chapter 2: Finding a Connection**

Harry sat at the table, listening to the Dursley's drone on and on about the up coming dinner with a big time drill company manager, feeling the lowest he could ever felt at Privet Drive; and that was saying something.

From the minute Harry had entered the door to Number Four, his entire link to the magical world had been torn away from him. All of his books had been locked in the little cupboard that had used to be his room and Hedwig had been locked in her cage, but that wasn't what had been bothering him the last couple of days.

Not once, during the entire summer, had any of his friends written to him, not a single letter. Veronica hadn't even sent a birthday present, as she said she would.

Finally, Uncle Vernon's voice stopped and Harry left the table, heading to the bench on the porch.

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…." He sang gloomily, staring at the rose bush.

_It stared right back!_

"I know what today is," Harry jumped and spun around to see Dudley waddling toward him. Turning back to the rose bush, he saw that the eyes had disappeared.

"I said, I know what today is," repeated Dudley, standing a few feet away from Harry.

"Congratulations," Harry responded dully, trying to find the eyes again, "You finally figured the days of the week out."

"It's your _birthday_," Dudley stood beside him, "Don't you have any _friends_ at that freak school?"

Harry ignored him, but could not ignore the small spurt of new sadness that comment had produced.

Irritated at the reaction to his jibe, Dudley followed Harry's gaze to the plant he was staring at.

"Why are you staring at that bush like that? What did it ever do to you?" Dudley's voice was fairly condescending.

"I'm trying to figure out the best spell to set it on fire," Harry monotoned, eagerly awaiting Dudley's reaction.

Dudley let out a frightened squeak, nearly toppling over, "You _can't_! You're not _allowed_! Mum and Dad will _kill_ you!"

"_Zeery Hooky_!" Harry cackled, enjoying the look of fright on his cousin's face, "_Hocus Pocus_!"

"Muuuuuuuuuuuummmmm!" Dudley shrieked, bolting toward the house, "Mum! He's doing _you-know-what_!"

Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. By the time the Masons arrived, he was ready to collapse into his bed and just rest until he was summoned downstairs to hear Uncle Vernon gloat. The only problem was that there was someone-or rather _something_-already in it.

_Jumping_ on it, actually.

Once it realized that Harry had entered the room, it stopped and bowed low, reverently, "Harry Potter! Such an honor it is!"

Harry examined the creature; it looked like a small wrinkled child with a long snout, two enormous bat-like ears and was wearing what looked like a very old pillowcase, "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir," he replied, coming up from his bow, "Dobby the house-elf."

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon loudly greet the Masons downstairs, "Not to be rude or anything, but this isn't the best time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."

"Y-yes, Dobby understands," The house-elf looked stuck for a moment, "It is difficult, sir. Dobby wonders were to begin."

"Maybe you should sit down?"

"S-sit down?"

Then, to Harry's horror, the house-elf burst into tears; very _loud_ tears.

"Dobby, shush!" Harry tried to quiet Dobby gently while straining his ears for Uncle Vernon's heavy trend, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything!"

"Offend Dobby?" he looked shocked at the very idea, "Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but never has Dobby been asked to sit down…like an equal."

This confused Harry, "You haven't met very decent wizards, then."

"No, I haven't," A look of horror crossed Dobby's face, "That was an awful thing to say."

He jumped off Harry's bed and began to ram his head into the drawer with cries of, "_Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!_ "

"Dobby! Stop!" Was it Harry's imagination, or did the lull downstairs stop for moment?

"I am sorry, sir, "Dobby's eyes were a little crossed, but his head-banging had stopped, "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir."

"Your family?"

"Dobby is supposed to serve one family forever, sir. If they ever knew Dobby was here…." Dobby's small body shuddered, "But Dobby had to come; he had to see Harry Potter, to warn him."

"Warn me of what?"

"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts School this year!"

Not go back to Hogwarts? "Why?"

"There is a plot, sir; a plot to make terrible things happen."

"What things? Who's plotting them?"

Dobby seemed to struggle with himself yet again, "Can't say…Don't make…me…say!"

Harry was scared that Dobby would start injuring himself again, "Ok, I understand that you can't say."

But that wasn't enough; for Dobby immediately jumped off the bed again and leapt on top of Harry's dresser and started to beat himself in the face with Harry's lamp.

There was no mistaking it this time; Uncle Vernon was definitely coming up the stairs.

Harry felt his heart stop for at least three seconds. Then he swept Dobby up with one hand, bolted over to his closet, and shut him inside just as Uncle Vernon entered his room.

"What the _devil_ are you doing up here?" It was almost funny how threatening Uncle Vernon could make a whisper sound.

The door creaked open. Harry shut it, "Sorry, sir."

"You just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke!" The door creaked open yet again. Uncle Vernon glared at it as Harry closed it again, trying to keep his face impassive.

Uncle Vernon returned his glare to Harry, "One more word out of you and you'll wish you were never born!"

_Creak!_

"And fix that bloody door!" Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind him, allowing Harry to let Dobby out of his closet, socks on his ears.

"See why I've got to go back?" Harry asked, as Dobby disentangled himself from Harry's socks, "I don't belong in this world; I belong in your world, at Hogwarts. It's the only place I have any friends!"

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Harry Potter?"

"Well, I expect…they've been…" Something didn't make sense, "Hang on, how you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

Dobby looked struck, "Harry Potter mustn't be angry. Dobby thought that if Harry Potter thought he didn't have any friends, Harry Potter wouldn't want to go to school."

Saying thus, Dobby reached into his pillowcase and pulled out a thick stack of letters.

There they were; every flicker of light Harry had been waiting for every day since leaving Hogwarts and entering Number 4. He could see Ron's speedy penmanship, Hermione's minute writing, Hagrid's untidy scrawl and Veronica's delicate print. It looked like she had written every day.

Harry was fighting a losing battle with his anger, "Give me those. Now."

"No!" Dobby stuffed them back into his pillowcase and bolted down the stairs.

Seething with fury, Harry followed, jumping down the creaky stair at the bottom and landing like a cat.

Spotting Dobby in the kitchen, and his aunt and uncle in a room beyond, Harry whispered urgently, "Dobby! Get back here!"

The house-elf shook his head and turned toward the refrigerator, snapping his fingers.

All of a sudden, Aunt Petunia's Triple-Whipped Chocolate and Strawberry Pudding decided to jump out of its bowl and float, dangerously, in the air.

Harry swallowed, aware immediately of the house-elf's intentions, "Dobby, don't!"

"Then Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts this year!"

"I can't, Hogwarts is my home!"

"Then Dobby must do it sir, for Harry Potter's own good!"

_Snap!_

The cake began to float toward the living room and Harry's Aunt and Uncle.

Pushing Dobby out of the way, Harry snuck toward the living room, hoping to get the cake before anyone noticed.

Too late.

All three Dursleys had seen the floating cake and Harry standing behind it with his arms outstretched, causing them all to lose their sense of speech.

The Masons thought the Dursleys were very odd to have stopped talking in the midst of a meeting, especially in the midst of that joke….

_Splat!_

Mrs. Mason licked the cream running down her nose to find that a very large chocolate cream filled pudding had been dropped on her.

"I-I'm so sorry," Uncle Vernon sputtered as Mr. Mason wiped whipped cream of his suit, "It's my nephew, he's very disturbed. Meeting strangers upsets him, that way we kept him upstairs…."

Harry sent Dobby a look so full of venom, that the elf snapped his fingers and disappeared.

As soon as the Masons left, Uncle Vernon set to putting bars on Harry's window, making him more of a prisoner than ever.

"You're never going to go back to that _school_," Uncle Vernon sneered as he tested the bars for their sturdiness, "You'll never see those freaky friends of yours_ again_! Never!"

Later that night, Harry had the most peculiar dream. He was in a zoo, in a cage labeled 'Harry Potter'. He saw Dobby in the crowd and tried to get him to help, but Dobby replied cheerfully, "Harry Potter is safe, sir!" before vanishing with a pop.

Sinking to his knees in hunger, Harry groaned as Dudley shook the bars, the sound echoing in his skull.

"Stop…." Harry groaned, the sound pulling him out of sleep, "Let me rest…."

The bars rattled again and Harry, turning over, nearly fell over in surprise.

A familiar red haired, freckled face was gazing back at him.

"Hiya, Harry!"

_Ronald Weasley was floating outside his window!_


	3. Returning to the Burrow

**Chapter 3: Returning to the Burrow**

Harry could hardly believe his eyes and he was almost struck speechless. Almost. "Ron! What are you doing here?"

Ron looked surprised, "Rescuing you, of course. Now hurry up and get your trunk."

"I can't," Harry had to explained, leaning as far as the bars would allow, seeing that Ron was on the hood of a _flying_ Ford Anglia, "My stuff's all locked up downstairs and I'm locked in here…"

"You better stand back, then," Ron replied, as hooked a chain around the bars on Harry's window.

"Wait!" Harry cried, but it was too late. Fred-maybe George?-geared up the car and had pulled the bars right out of the window.

Harry froze and strained his ears; but all he heard was an extra loud snore from Uncle Vernon's room. He began to breathe again.

"But all my stuff's still downstairs…."

"We can help with that!" With a bound Fred and George were in Harry's room and Ron had taken their place at the wheel, tilting the Anglia slightly to keep it from crashing into Number Four.

"Most wizards' think this is rubbish," Fred-no, that was George-whispered, pulling out a paper clip, "They think it's a cheap Muggle trick, nothing to trouble ourselves with; yet, at times, it's a lot safer than magic. A lot quieter as well, which is good, for quiet is what we need right now."

There was a few seconds silence as George twisted the paper clip expertly, and then a sharp click as the door swung open, Harry's light illuminating the darken hallway.

"It's in a cupboard on the first floor," Harry informed the twins as they made their almost shadowy way downstairs. Then he remembered something and called out in his softest shout, "Watch out for the bottom step! It creaks!"

Just in time, too. The twins had made it to the bottom step and jumped over it, not even making a whisper of a sound.

Harry was gathering the things he had managed to keep when the twins returned, dragging his trunk behind him. Harry paused once more to make sure that they had made no extra noise.

Silence.

Shoving it all in his trunk and shoving the trunk in the back of the Ford Anglia, Harry was about to follow when an angry hoot made him stop.

"THAT RUDDY BIRD!"

"I forgot Hedwig!" Harry bolted back into the room as he heard Uncle Vernon thundering down the hall.

He had just got Hedwig in the backseat when Uncle Vernon slammed through the door.

"Petunia, he's escaping!" Harry leapt into the car just as a great red fist clamped on his ankle.

"Get off!"

"No way!"

"Get off me!"

"No way, boy! You and that bloody pigeon aren't going anywhere!"

With a final, fierce kick, Harry managed to rid himself of his Uncle, sending him into the rose bushes below his window.

Nothing could explain the feeling Harry had at flying away from his prison, laughing and joking with the other Weasleys. The best part was having Ron turn to him, grinning.

"By the way, Harry, Happy Birthday!"


	4. Drawing Conclusions

**Chapter 4: Drawing Conclusions**

It only took a few minutes after they were out of sight of Number Four before Ron started demanding why Harry hadn't written to him all summer,

"I must've invited you over at least a dozen times! Dad was going to go to Dumbledore in a few days, but we decided not to wait that long, So, what's the story, mate?"

"Let's let Hedwig out first," Harry replied, basking in the brisk wind on his face, "She hasn't been able to hunt in months."

A passing of the paper clip, a jiggle and click, and Hedwig was soaring beside them, hooting happily.

"Go on and hunt, girl," Harry sighed, still euphoric in his freedom, "You know where I'll be."

With another happy hoot, Hedwig flew off as Harry began his tale, not drawing breath until he got to the end.

There was silence in the car for a few minutes before one twin pointed out how far east they were going and the other one corrected their course. Then silence reigned again.

Finally, Ron broke it.

"That's absolute rubbish! Hogwarts is the safest place there is! Someone must be jerking your chain, Harry."

Harry felt as if a great weight was being lifted off his chest, "Are you sure? He sounded pretty serious…"

"Absolutely, Harry!" Ron assured him, even grinning broadly. "House-elves have to do _exactly_ what their masters tell them to do. Someone probably sent this Dobby as some kind of joke,"

"You know what?" Fred asked as he twisted the wheel expertly, "I think you're actually making sense, Ronnikins. Only question is: who would do something like that?"

Ron answered in the same instant as Harry, making them grin at each other.

"Malfoy."

"So you guys are leaning toward Malfoy," Fred replied, grinning even more broadly as the car began to descend and the sky started to lighten.

"Yeah, he's definitely the type," Harry replied, sinking into the car's leather seats and letting his mind wonder…

He could just see Malfoy wandering around a huge mansion, nose in the air, gloating that he made Harry sweat. He could just hear Malfoy laughing to himself as he rolled in a pile of Galleons. How he ever bought that stupid story…

With a jar, Harry awoke, confused for a few seconds: Why was his bed moving? Then the last few hours came back to him and he gazed out the car window.

They were approaching a small cottage that had a crooked chimney and an assortment of Wellington boots being run over by a horde of chickens as the Ford Anglia steered toward them.

Exiting the car and creeping into the house, Harry had the oddest impression that he had come home. Everything in the house spoke of comfort and love.

There was a large clock on the mantelpiece that had each of the Weasley's faces on it and a destination. It had everything from 'traveling' and 'home' to 'mortal peril'. On one of the chairs there was a sweater being magically woven.

"It's not much," Ron replied, making his way to Harry's side, oddly nervous, "But it's home."

"I think it's brilliant!" Harry replied, a huge grin on his face as he turned to his best mate. _It's far better than any day at the Dursley's._

"Where-Have-You-Been??"

Harry spun around and came face-to-face with a portly woman with the same flaming hair as her sons, only it was a little faded.

"Hello, Harry. So nice to see you, dear." Mrs. Weasley beamed before rounding on her sons. "Beds empty. Car gone. No note. You could've _died_! You could've been _seen_!"

"They were starving him, Mum!" Ron interjected, as his brothers nodded behind him. "They had bars on his window!!"

"Well, you better hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley warned before turning to Harry with a pleasant smile. "Come on, Harry. Time for a spot of breakfast."

As Harry followed Mrs. Weasley, a small, gray owl flew through the window and squawked at Harry before dropping a letter on his head.

"Who's that from?" Ron asked, as the owl flew out the window again, "I don't recognize the owl."

"It's from Veronica," Harry replied, spotting the delicate print. "I'll be right back."

Harry moved into the living room and opened the letter, hoping Veronica wasn't mad at him.

She was.

_Harry Potter!_

_Do you have __any__ idea how worried I was about you?? I had to hear from __**Hermione**__ that Ron was planning a rescue mission to get you out of that awful Muggles' house! Why didn't you owl me? I could've helped!!_

_Honestly, Harry, why didn't you owl me? When I heard that Ron and Hermione hadn't received any letters from you either, I was beginning to worry that those __**people**__ had done something to you! Don't __ever__ scare me like that again!!_

_Harry Potter, if you don't tell me what happened-I swear to Merlin!-I will never speak to you again!_

Veronica Dathey 

Despite the angry note of the letter, Harry felt a small glow grow in him. Veronica was worried about him! As strange as that might have sound, he was glad that she cared enough to worry.

"Come on, Harry!" Ron's voice called from the kitchen. "Your food is getting cold!"

Pocketing the note, Harry made his way back to the kitchen and collided with a little girl coming down the stairs.

"Oh, Excuse…" Her mouth dropped and brown eyes widened, "…me…"

"It's alright." Harry replied, smiling warmly. "You must be Ron's sister."

Ron's sister nodded, her mouth still open and shocked into silence. She had the same red hair that Harry took to be a Weasley trait, bright as a fire this time, and a squadron of freckles that danced across her nose.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Harry stuck out his hand, which the girl took automatically.

"I know all about you!" Ron's sister exclaimed, shaking Harry's arm enthusiastically, "I've heard your story every night! Ever since I was three and asked to hear your story and my Mum told me…"

Her face turned as bright as her hair as she realized what she had just said and, before Harry could do more than blink, she had released his hand, bolting up the stairs.

"Harry! Dad wants to meet you! What are you doing??"

Harry shook his head and made his way to the kitchen. He would have to find out more about Ron's sister at a later date. He hoped they could be friends…


	5. Diagon Alley

**Chapter Five: Diagon Alley**

Life at the Burrow had become a sort of joyful routine for Harry; he would wake every morning to Mrs. Weasley stuffing him full of bacon, eggs, toast and other delicious foods while Mr. Weasley asked every question he could think of about Muggles ("What exactly is the purpose of a rubber duck?"). Harry found it all very funny, although Ron seemed to find it embarrassing and apologized to Harry every time.

Then it was out to the backyard to practice Quidditch with Ron's sister-Harry learned her name was Ginny-playing with them every so often. She did pretty well too, although Harry learned not to compliment her when she played as the neutral Beater. Ginny had turned a bright shade of garnet and swung her bat so haphazardly that Fred ended up with a bloody nose that effectively broke up their game.

Afterward, it was exploring the village and watching Fred and George playing pranks on the locals, which was really a challenge since they couldn't use magic, but it didn't seem to slow them in the slightest. On the contrary, they made bets on who could prank the fastest and whose prank was the best, with Harry, Ron and Ginny as judges.

Finally, it was back to the Burrow for a impeccable dinner full of laughter and stories coupled with such wonderful food that left Harry so full, it was all he could do to just stagger up to bed, change into his pajamas, and fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Yet, it wasn't just fun and games at the Burrow, there were chores to be done as well. The one Harry found most interesting was the de-gnomeing of the garden.

It had happened the day the Weasleys had saved him from the Dursley's. Mrs. Weasley was more than a little upset with her sons and ordered them to de-gnome the garden instead of heading off to bed. Harry, who was wide awake from the excitement, was eager to see how to do this.

After assuring their mother that they didn't need a 'Gilderoy Lockhart' how-to book for help and waving away her threats, the Weasley boys headed out to the backyard, Harry at their heels.

Harry was informed of the difference between the Muggle and wizard bases of gnomes and then introduced to one when Ron pulled it out from under a bush and began swinging it around, causing Harry's jaw to drop in shock despite reassurances that it didn't bother them.

"We just need to make them really dizzy so they don't come back," Ron added, tossing the gnome over the garden wall.

"Pitiful," Fred sniffed, pushing Harry forward, "I bet Harry could throw one at least ten feet farther his first try!"

"W-what?" Harry stammered, content with just watching the de-gnomeing and surprised that he had been included.

George grinned, adding a hand to Harry's shoulder in his forward momentum. "Yeah, Harry, give it a go!"

Harry swallowed, moving forward and searching for one of the smaller gnomes as Fred, George and Ron looked on, grins plastered on all their faces. He found what looked like a little one hugging the garden wall and jumping away as soon as it had been spotted.

Harry dived after it and managed to grab it by the ankle and hoisted above his head and began to swing, hoping against hope that he didn't drop the gnome and make an utter fool of himself in front of the guys. The gnome however, was not in a co-operating mood.

Sensing the fact that the boy holding him wasn't one of the more experienced throwers, the gnome bit the knuckle of the hand holding him, causing the boy to let out a howl of pain before he went flying.

"Whoa, Harry, that must've been fifty feet!"

From then on, Harry simply watched the de-gnomeing, having learned from his first bloody knuckle.

Every night, Harry sent Veronica letters gushing with happiness on his stay with the Weasley's and every night, Veronica sent letters back exclaiming on how happy she was that he was having a good time and information on her summer as well.

It was hard to believe how quickly the summer went by, for Harry felt a mixture of sadness with his usual excitement that the Hogwarts letters were sitting on the kitchen table.

"Dumbledore sent your letter too, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled, handing Harry his letter as well, "Doesn't miss a thing, Dumbledore."

Feeling a swirl of emotions fighting in his gut, Harry simply took his letter and opened it, seeing what he needed for his second year at Hogwarts.

There was the standard cauldron, robes (Harry's were getting a little short in the ankles) and Potion supplies, the _Standard Book of Spells, Year Two, _as well as what looked like the entire set of Gilderoy Lockhart's books.

"You got the Gilderoy books as well?" Fred asked, glancing over Harry's shoulder before looking at his own parchment, "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must a nut... bet she's a witch..."

Mrs. Weasley shot her son a look that clearly said that she didn't want to hear another word about Gilderoy and witches before she looked over all of the kid's lists with a crease on her forehead.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked, watching as the crease grew in volume with each list she looked at, "What's wrong? Is there something I can do?"

"Oh no, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled, crease miraculously disappearing, "I'm just wondering how we're going to get to Diagon Alley with the five of you..."

Five...? "Oh! Are you going to Hogwarts too, Ginny?" Harry asked, just noticing the youngest redhead because she was so quiet.

Ginny turned a new shade of red as she nodded and accidentally put her elbow in the butter dish, causing a cough-covered laugh to escape Harry's lips before she recognized her fluke and removed it; growing, if possible, even redder.

"Why don't we travel by Floo Powder, Mum?" Ron suggested as Harry helped Ginny clean her elbow off.

"Floo Powder?" Harry questioned, handing Ginny the handkerchief so that she could finish cleaning off. "What's that?"

"It's a real ingenious way that wizards can get around when broomsticks are too conspicuous," Fred informed, going to the mantelpiece and holding out a flowerpot of green powder. "We'll need to pick up some more in Diagon Alley, we're almost out."

"Well, then," Mrs. Weasley interjected, picking up the breakfast dishes and starting the washing by wand. "I suggest you all get ready to go to Diagon Alley. We'll go when you are all dressed."

Harry dressed at top speed and rushed down the stairs, eager to try out a new means of transportation, when a pair of hushed voices stopped him.

"Four sets of Gilderoy's books? Do you know how expensive that is? Not to mention that Ginny needs a wand..." Mr. Weasley let out a long sigh. "How are we going to afford all that?"

"We'll manage," Mrs. Weasley stated firmly, "We'll get some of the books secondhand so we can get Ginny her wand. It'll work..."

Harry sank to floor, waves of guilt washing over him as he thought of his bank vault at Gringotts and the fact that these amazing people were worried over money when he had enough to spare.

Swallowing down his guilt, Harry made his way into the living room, ready to help the people who've done so much for him.

Mrs. Weasley turned her gaze from her husband to see Harry enter the room with a determined glint in his eye. Wondering at the feeling of unease that look gave her, she smiled and asked, "Are you ready, dear?"

"Yes, but, Mrs. Weasley?" His face took on the look of a child again as he admitted, "I overheard you and Mr. Weasley talking..."

Mrs. Weasley now knew why she felt that unease; the boy was going to offer her money. There was no way that she was going to take money from a child! "Don't worry about that, Harry. Grown-ups often worry about money-"

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm not simple."

The sentence wasn't spoken with any kind of venom, it was stated in a normal tone; yet, Mrs. Weasley immediately felt ashamed that she tried to cover up their problem when it was so evident.

Turning to reassure Harry that, even though they were a little tight, they would not need his hand out, Mrs. Weasley stopped when she met his penetrating gaze. It was as if she was looking at Dumbledore, with his ability to X-ray right through you.

"I'm sorry, Harry," This came from Mr. Weasley and it broke the tense silence that had fallen between his wife and the boy as he stood from his chair by the fire. "I know you mean well, but whatever offer you were thinking of, we cannot accept it."

"Why, when all I want to do is help?"

Mr. Weasley, gazing into the fire, couldn't help but smile at the innocent question. The child did not want leverage or to lord it over his head, but simply wanted to help those who helped him.

"It would be like admitting I couldn't support my family," Mr. Weasley raised his hand to forestall the objection he just knew was coming, "I know that wasn't your intention, but it would eat at me that I had to accept help from a child to support us."

"But, Mr. Weasley-"

"I'll tell you what, Harry," Mr. Weasley turned from the fire and and finally met Harry's gaze. What he saw there made him feel proud as any father could be of a child not their own; a fierce determination mixed with a overwhelming concern that left him temporarily speechless. "If there ever comes a time that we are so broke we have to use tree branches as wands, we'll reconsider your offer, how's that?"

Harry's response was cut off by the scraping and banging that announced that the Weasley children were on their way into the living room, causing Mr. Weasley to give Harry a wordless request for silence.

Harry complied, but it still ate at him that he couldn't help the Weasley's even though he understood where Mr. Weasley was coming from.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron laughed, missing the looks his parents were giving each other, as well as his best mate. "Are you ready to travel by Floo Powder?"

Harry smiled, struck by the realization that one of the best moments in his life was the day Ron Weasley asked to sit in his compartment and became his best friend. "Sure, how do you do it?"

"Like this," So saying, Ron took a handful of the green powder, threw it into the fire, stepped into the swirling green flames, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and disappeared with a swirl of his cloak.

Harry initial excitement was now tampered as he realized that traveling by Floo Powder was not going to be as fun as he originally thought.

"Don't be scared, dear," Mrs. Weasley soothed, probably catching some of the fear that was emitting from Harry's stiff form, "Be sure to tuck your elbows in-"

"Speak real clearly, or you'll miss the gate-"

"Don't breath in the soot-"

Head ringing with all the instructions, Harry took a handful of the Floo Powder and threw it into the flames before he stepped in himself.

The flames were warm and rushed around Harry with a slight caress, causing him to relax slightly before he opened his mouth to speak and swallowed a mouthful of ashes.

"D-Diagon Al-ley"

With a roar like a dragon breathing fire, Harry went into a sudden spin that made his stomach lurch and made him wish that he hadn't eaten so much breakfast as he went into an even faster tailspin.

Keeping his elbows tucked and his mouth clamped shut, Harry felt bile rise in his throat as he closed his eyes and prayed that the trip ended soon and swore that he would never, ever, _ever_ travel by Floo Powder again!

No sooner had his prayer and declaration finished did Harry stop spinning, causing him to lurch forward and giving him enough time to stop his face from being crushed but not his glasses from snapping.

Sprawled on the floor, Harry took a few deep breaths to push the urge to retch horribly down before standing and taking stock of his surroundings.

First thing he realized was that this was not Diagon Alley; it was too dark and some of the things floating in the jars weren't things you'd find in any of its shops. Looking out the window, Harry saw that the outside wasn't any better than the interior.

Deciding that this was not a good place to hang around in and that he better find the Weasleys before something found him, Harry made his way to the exit before he saw someone about to enter the shop, someone he didn't want to meet covered with soot and holding broken glasses to his face.

Draco Malfoy.

Fighting down a mounting sense of dread, Harry backtracked to the fireplace, scanning the room for somewhere, anywhere at all, to hide. The only thing that looked even remotely decent was a cupboard by the front desk, which Harry dived into as soon as Draco entered the store.

"Why are we here? You said we were going to buy me a new broom-"

"Silence, Draco," Peeking through a tiny crack in the cupboard door, Harry could see that a tall, pale man with a narrow face and the same platinum blond hair as Draco had followed him into the store. This must be his father; Mr. Malfoy. "The agreement was that you would get the broom if your grades were good, not the abysmal ones you brought home."

"It's not my fault!" Draco retorted, as Mr. Malfoy rang the bell on the front desk. "All the teachers have favorites, like that Granger girl. All the teachers fawn over her just because she can answer a few questions-"

"I'm surprised that someone with blood as pure as yours could have lower standing than that Muggleborn."

Harry was filled with a fierce pride for Hermione as Draco's cheeks turned a bright pink at his father's chastisement. He always knew Hermione was the best in their year, Muggleborn or not and to hear Draco be reprimanded for it was an added bonus.

"The Dathey girl is just as bad." Harry was surprised that Veronica's name had entered the conversation. "She's blatantly walking around with, and even making _friends_, with Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and bloody _Griffindors_, for Merlin's sake! Why the Sorting Hat put her in Slytherin, I'll never know; I bet she isn't even a pureblood!"

Harry was filled with an irrational anger at the thought of Veronica being bad-mouthed because she was a _good_ Slytherin and almost burst out of the cupboard to pummel Draco's face in before his father spoke again.

"She is merely playing it safe, Draco, seeing were the cards lay. Your Uncle was the same way, he even went as far as suggesting a Werewolf Acceptance Act for werewolves to be accepted as members of the wizarding community. Thankfully, that never went through."

Harry was struck with a sudden doubt that Mr. Malfoy might be right, that Veronica might be simply playing at being friendly so no one would suspect her of being on the wrong side. Mentally shaking his head, Harry reprimanded himself for thinking that way. Veronica was nothing of the sort and to think so would make him as bad as the Malfoys.

Mr. Malfoy sniffed, and rang the bell in a swift repetition, clearly eager to be on his way and end Draco's little rant. Harry found himself willing the owner to hear the bell and send the Malfoys on their way; his feet were tingling from blood loss.

"Then there's the great Harry Potter," Draco seemed to feel most strongly about this particular subject; his voice was harsh and broke in some places from sheer rage. "Famous Harry Potter with his bloody famous _scar_, bloody famous _parents_ and bloody famous _defeat_ of the bloody famous _Dark Lord_. He isn't even that good at magic!"

"Jealousy is very unbecoming, Draco." Mr. Malfoy drawled, nodding at the approaching owner, who was out of Harry's line of sight, "You should try controlling that before it ruins any kind of future you have. Greetings, Mr. Borgin."

Draco's face took on an ever darker shade of red than it was a few minutes before as Mr. Malfoy conversed with the store owner, who's oily voice made Harry's skin crawl, about the recent 'intrusive and unnecessary raids' on wizard's homes and on 'items of a sensitive nature' that 'the Ministry might not approve of''.

Leaning forward eagerly, Harry listened for an kind of incriminating evidence that he could pass on to Mr. Weasley and take Draco down a few pegs, but all he got was a list of useless potions and a sharp pain in his leg at the sudden movement.

About halfway through the haggling and arrangements, Draco seemed to get bored just standing there and listening, so he began to investigate the various items in Mr. Borgin's shop, even laughing at the plague underneath a hangman's noose that cautioned: _Warning! Cursed Item, Has Claimed Seventeen Muggle Lives To Date._

The numbness in Harry's body had fully covered his legs and was starting to go even further north when Draco noticed the cupboard by the desk. Glancing at it curiously, he began to move toward it, his arm outstretched to open the door, causing Harry to scoot as far back as he could without making any noise. If Draco found him in here, he'd never live it down...

Draco's hand was inches way from the handle, fingertips brushing the wood, when his father announced that it was time for them to leave. After a few heart-pounding moments were it looked like Draco was going to defy his father and open the cupboard, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he left.

Muttering about 'how he had been sold half of the sensitive things in Malfoy Manor' Mr. Borgin left, allowing Harry to fall out of his constricted position and rub some feeling back into his legs, cringing at the pain.

Deciding that it would be a good idea to be gone when the owner came back, Harry hightailed it out of the store and ran into a old lady who was carrying what looked like a tray full of fingers.

"Whose going to pay for these now?!" The old lady screeched, making Harry wonder if she was somehow related to a banshee.

"I-I'm sorry..."

The old lady suddenly stopped screaming and squinted at the boy standing next to her. "Who you? Never seen you around here before..."

"N-nobody," Harry stammered, backtracking as fast as he could before bumping into someone else.

Looking up, Harry found himself looking into a pair of hypnotically beautiful azure eyes that seemed to push down his urge to run and filled his head with a fuzzy, sleepy feeling as a set of perfect white teeth spread into a smile.

"Don't worry, we'll help you..."

"No fair, Vlad, I found him first!" The old lady growled, grabbing a hold of his arm and making Harry feel the slightest twinge of unease.

"Calm down, Fay. He's big enough to share..."

"HARRY!!"

Snapped out of his trance-like state, Harry looked up to see Hagrid looking down at him with a disapproving glare that made the two... _creatures_ holding him back away so fast he almost fell from being released so fast.

"What're yeh doin' down 'ere? Come'n."

Never so happy to see someone in his entire life, Harry pulled away from the two, who looked like their lunch had just been stolen, and rushed to Hagrid's side.

"Sulking around Knockturn Alley, Harry?" Hagrid growled, brushing the dirt off Harry's shoulders and almost knocking Harry's feet out from under him. "Dodgey place, people'll think you're up to no good..."

"I got lost!" Harry explained, trying to dodge Hagrid's hands. "I was with the Weasley's... Floo Powder..."

Hagrid still didn't look convinced until Mrs. Weasley ran up and embraced Harry in a bone crushing hug, her family trailing behind her.

"Oh, Harry dear, we were so worried! We had hoped you had gone only one gate too far..."

Hagrid filled Mrs. Weasley in on what had happened ("Knockturn Alley, you poor dear!") and Mr. Weasley fixed his glasses while Harry tried to identify the tingly feeling in his chest Mrs. Weasley's hug had given him. It was almost as if his heart was too big for his chest... He felt happy and sad at the same time...

"Harry!"

"Ron!"

Both boys turned at the sound of their names and both boys were almost knocked over by a pair of females wrapping their arms them, causing the remaining Weasleys and Hagrid to almost fall over themselves with fits of laughter.

"Hermione! Gerroff!" Ron immediately went stiff and could not be convinced to hug the curly haired brunette back no matter how much they cajoled and teased him.

"Veronica..." Harry, on the other hand, had no qualms in hugging the ebony haired girl wrapped around him and was only slightly surprised when he felt the same chest tingle as when Mrs. Weasley hugged him.

"I missed you," Veronica whispered, pulling Harry tighter and smiling when he mimicked the motion. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes," The answer came without hesitation, without thought. He knew it, he could _feel_ it, but he didn't know what to call it, so he simply said, "I missed you a lot."

The group was no longer laughing as they watched the two children hold each other, unabashed and unashamed, in clear view of anyone who would glance their way, until a sudden rumble pulled them apart.

"What was that?" Veronica asked, unconsciously reaching for Harry's hand. "Where did it come from?"

"I dunno," Harry responded, not realizing his fingers had intertwined with Veronica's and Ginny was giving their clasped hands one of the dirtiest looks she could manage. "Are we near Gringotts?"

"It's just down the road," Fred replied, catching the glare Ginny was giving Veronica and glad that looks couldn't kill, otherwise the girl's skin tone would match her hair. "Come'n, we need to get going or the shops will close."

They followed Fred down the road for a while, until Ron noticed something strange about his best mate and the girl beside him.

"Harry?" Ron checked again as Harry looked over at him curiously, "Do you know that you're holding Veronica's hand?"

Harry and Veronica looked down in surprise, but they didn't pull away. On the contrary, they both reflexively squeezed their hands and smiled before Harry answered, "Yeah, I guess we are."

"You do know that she's a _Slytherin_, right?"

Veronica became very interested in the cobbles under their feet as Harry sent Ron a look that made him want to crawl under a rock before growling, "So?"

Ron swallowed, not really sure how his friend would take this next question or if he even wanted to know the answer. "Do you... you know... _like_ her?"

Harry expression changed from anger to puzzlement. "Of course I like her, she's one of my best mates!"

Ron's ears turned red, a sure sign that he was embarrassed, before he stammered, "I-I mean d'you-d'you _like_ like her?"

Harry blinked a few times, trying to understand what his friend was asking him. He was only twelve years old and was still puzzled by the fact that, now that he knew he was holding Veronica's hand, he kept feeling little tingles up and down his arm.

"Are you guys coming or what?" All three jumped at Mr. Weasley's voice before breaking up and running toward her.

Through the entire cart ride, Harry tried to figure out what he felt for Veronica and why it was so important to Ron. He couldn't understand why he had to pick apart his relationship with her when it was fine just the way it was.

When Harry's vault was open, he felt another pang of guilt that only intensified at Ron's 'Blimey!' and Hermione's startled intake of breath as he tried to fill his bag as fast as he could before they headed to the Weasley's vault, where there was a handful of Galleons and maybe a Sickle or two.

"Mrs. Weasley..." Veronica's voice was as laden with sadness as Harry's heart felt, for her vault, not as weighed down riches as Harry's, was still more filled than the Weasley's. She probably would've tried to make the same offer, if Harry hadn't clasped her hand and shook his head.

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Weasley smiled, missing the silent conversation between the two, but not the look her husband gave them. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Veronica sighed, giving Harry's hand a squeeze in return, causing them to share a sad smile.

Wondering at the way the children in front of were able to communicate so well, Mr. Weasley interjected with a, "We have a lot of shopping to do, so let's get going."

Nothing else was said until they made it to Borish and Blotts, where it was reveled that, not only were they going to deal with a course full of Gilderoy's books, they were going to have deal with the self centered ponce as well.

Extracting himself from Lockhart's claws, Harry dropped his pile of books in Ginny's cauldron, muttering, "I'll buy my own."

"Bet you liked that, didn't you, Potter?"

Exhaling slowly, Harry wished for some portable Floo Powder, surprising himself with the desire to travel that way, before turning to see someone he had the misfortune to run into, not once, but twice in one day.

"Famous Harry Potter," Draco Malfoy sneered, getting double the dirty looks, from both Veronica and Ginny before continuing, "Can't even go into a book store with out getting on the front page."

"Jealous, Malfoy?" Veronica sneered right back, moving in front of Harry, Ginny by her side. "Found something you can't buy?"

Draco face twisted in disgust, almost as if he was being forced to eat lemons before stammering, "J-jealous? Of him? Don't be ridiculous! Why I-"

"Now, now, Draco," Mr. Malfoy's oily voice rose the hairs on the back of Harry's neck as he pushed past his son to stand in front of Harry. "Play nicely. Mr. Potter, if you don't mind..."

Without even waiting for an answer, Mr. Malfoy pushed the hair on Harry's forehead aside, reveling his scar. "Your scar is quite famous... as well as the wizard who gave it to you."

"Voldemort killed my parents," Harry pulled out of Mr. Malfoy's grip, feeling an uncontrollable urge to wash his hand and hair to get the sensation of Mr. Malfoy's fingers out of it. "He was nothing more than a murderer."

"You're very brave to speak his name, or very foolish."

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," Hermione retorted, causing Mr. Malfoy's gaze to become focused on her instead of Harry.

"You must be Miss Granger?" Hermione's nod made Mr. Malfoy's smirk grow in volume as he moved closer, "Yes, Draco's told me all about you. And your parents."

Catching sight of Hermione's stricken face, Veronica snapped, "Did he also tell you that she's the best in our year? Or did he forget to mention that?"

Harry's hand unconsciously reached for his wand as Mr. Malfoy moved to stand in front of Veronica, who didn't seem to care that he was staring at her in a way that made Ginny cower away.

"Then we come to Miss Dathey," Mr. Malfoy sneered, staring at the child in front of him and was surprised that she wasn't cowering like the brat beside her. "A disgrace to the house of Slytherin and a disgrace to the pureblood line."

"Children!" Mr. Weasley finally made his way through the queue of witches and placed a hand on Ginny and Ron's shoulders as he ignored the Malfoys with a smile. "It's completely mad in here, let's go outside-"

"Arthur."

The smile disappeared. "Lucius."

The tension level in the shop went up a few more notches as the two wizards stared at each other with undisguised hatred before Mr. Malfoy spoke again.

"Busy time at the Ministry, with all those extra raids, I hope they're paying you overtime?"

Reaching into Ginny's cauldron while she cowered away, Mr. Malfoy pushed past all the glittery Gilderoy books and pulled out a ragged _Standard Book of Spells, Grade One_. "Clearly not."

Snatching the books from Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley dropped them back into Ginny's cauldron, not breaking eye contact the entire time. "Can I help you with something?"

"I doubt you could afford it," Mr. Malfoy smirked, glancing behind Mr. Weasley, where Hermione's parents were talking with Mrs. Weasley about how Summoning worked, "Associating with Muggles, I thought your family could stoop no lower."

"We have a very different idea on what disgraces a wizard, _Malfoy_." Mr. Weasley retorted, pulling his children close.

"Clearly," Mr. Malfoy turned away, but not before shooting Veronica one last warning.

"You are treading a very thin line, Miss Dathey. Make sure you don't cross to the wrong side."

Harry moved to stand beside her as Veronica replied, "Don't worry, I know exactly what side I'm on."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the Malfoys left, some even loosened grips on wands before they joined the Grangers and Mrs. Weasley.

"There you all are!" Mrs. Weasley smiled, waving good-bye to the Grangers. "Do you have everything? The shop owner said that we could use his fire..."

Harry removed his glasses as he took a pinch of powder and hoped he landed in the right fire this time.


	6. A Friendship Questioned

**Chapter Six: A Friendship Questioned**

Harry spent the rest of his time at the Burrow running over his meeting with Veronica in his head and the strange tingles that he felt whenever he embraced her, as well as why he felt so angry at Ron when he pointed out that Veronica was a Slytherin when they all _clearly_ knew she was.

It took him a while to realize that it wasn't the fact that Ron had said it, but the look on Veronica's face _when_ he had said it. She looked so dejected and hurt that it made Harry seriously consider harming his best friend, the first friend that he ever had and that scared him a little.

**What do I call this feeling? **Harry wondered, hand on his chest, right above his heart. **It's scary and exciting at the same time, and I only feel it this powerfully around Veronica... Why?**

Harry strongly considered writing to Hermione and ask her about all of this; for, being a girl, he was sure that she would understand what he was feeling and could explain it her clear, logical, Hermione way. The only thing that stopped him was another strange, yet strong, feeling, and this one was telling him that he didn't want anyone else to know just yet.

So, instead of writing to Hermione, Harry wrote to Veronica; detailing the happy events of the last of his summer and of how Ginny seemed to be shut up in her room a lot, ever since they returned from Diagon Alley. This confused Harry, and even made him worry when he made a point to invite her to play Quidditch with them and she had snapped at him that he had only done it out of pity and as a last resort before slamming her door in his face, nearly clipping off Harry's nose and not even giving him a chance to respond.

Harry asked Veronica if there was something he could do to make Ginny feel better when she obviously felt like she was unwanted, or worse, a nuisance. He also made sure to ask Veronica if she ever saw a time when it seemed he had acted like that with anyone, so he could correct and quit his bad habit, knowing firsthand how awful that felt.

Finishing off the letter, Harry paused before signing his name, thinking about telling Veronica about the feeling he kept experiencing in her presence. Shaking his head swiftly, Harry decided against it; what if scared her and made her run away? Just the thought made a sharp pain stab his chest, moving his hand to quickly sign his name with a blotch at the end.

Exhaling slowly, Harry rolled the parchment up and attached it to Hedwig's leg, sending her off into the night. Watching his snowy owl fly off into the darkness, Harry whispered softly, "See you soon."

--

The next day was a frenzy of movement and activity, Harry being pulled this way and that by people needing his help to find books, shirts, spell books and supplies while he tried to figure out why, whenever he passed Ginny, she gave him a sniff and a dirty look as if he never took a shower the whole time he was there (Which he did, regularly).

"Never mind her, she's just edgy about going to Hogwarts," Ron interrupted him when Harry tried to tell him about it, tossing as much things out of his trunk as he put in it, "Have you seen my chess set? Lee Jordan challenged me to a match first thing this term and I can't find it..."

The ride to the train station was a hurried and awkward ride, all attempts at conversation broken off by Ginny's frosty silence. On the verge of asking straight out what was bothering the young redhead, Harry's words were cut off when the car was jerked to a sudden stop.

"The train is leaving in fifteen minutes, hurry everyone, hurry!" Mrs. Weasley's voice was stressed and high pitched, causing Harry to rush to the gateway separating the Hogwarts Express from the rest of the Muggle world, an idea bursting to life on how to give them a little more time.

"Harry! What on Earth are you doing?!" Mr. Weasley shouted, attempting to pull three trunks out of the boot of the car at the same time, while also trying to keep the various animals under control.

"I'm going to ask the conductor if they can hold the train for a few more minutes!" Harry called back, looking over his shoulder at Mr. Weasley, "It shouldn't be a problem to stay for a few- Bloody hell!!"

Harry staggered backward, rubbing at a shoulder that had, instead of gliding smoothly through the wall to the other side like normal, slammed right into it with a resounding _thud_.

"Harry, dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley had immediately rushed over and began checking Harry over for any kind of injuries or broken bones, making Harry feel very much younger than his impressive twelve years.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, just a little sore," Harry replied, removing himself from the concerned, yet suffocating, embrace. "We have a bigger problem; why won't the gateway let me through?"

Mr. Weasley walked over to the barrier, a frown between his eyes, placed a hand against the wall and began to mutter under his breath for a few moments before his frown grew deeper.

"It seems as if the barrier has been sealed somehow," He stated a minute later, pulling out his wand and tapping various stones with it. "Why would it be sealed? _How_ would be a better question..."

"Well, you can fix it, right?" Harry asked, concious of all the strange looks they were getting from the commuters attracted by the various squawks and squeaks coming from Hedwig's cage and Ron's pocket.

"I'm not sure," Mr. Weasley admitted, shielding his wand movements from the curious Muggles before motioning his children away, "Why don't you kids wait by the car while Molly and I try to unseal this?"

Nodding and making various noises of approval, the Weasley children and Harry made their way to the entrance and the waiting Ford Anglia to wait for Mr. Weasley to fix the problem with the barrier.

Conversation was once more a difficult affair, for any time Harry made a comment or reply to a question, Ginny would throw him a dirty look and immediately quit speaking for several minutes. It finally became too much for the young boy to handle and he snapped at her.

"Just what exactly did I do?!"

The rest of the group fell silent, even Percy stopped droning on about the importance of grades and tests to watch the interaction between his youngest sibling and The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"I can't believe you're that dense, Harry Potter," Ginny sniffed, finally speaking to him for the first time in weeks when no one else seemed inclined to fill the silence that followed Harry's outburst. "Boy, was I ever wrong about _you_!"

"Gee, Ginny, why are you being so harsh? Harry hasn't done anything to you." Ron was slightly surprised that the words came out of his mouth, he had been on the receiving end of his sister's wrath before and had decided to never make her that mad at him again, but she was yelling at Harry for no reason at all and Ron was upset by this. Harry hadn't done anything wrong that he had seen and, judging by their blank looks, nothing his brothers had seen either.

"Are you all really that blind?" Ginny's incredulous look went from one brother to the other before she literally threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Fine, I'll tell you: Veronica Dathey."

While the older boy's looks changed from puzzlement to a type of sheepish acknowledgment, Harry's look only grew even more confused. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"It's only the fact that she's a Slytherin, part of a group of people that I have been warned against my entire life, and your best friend while I'm just-"

Ginny immediately turned garnet as she realized she almost said too much and clamped her mouth shut, refusing any and all attempts-_ill _attempts by the twins-to get her to speak again.

As Harry thought over what the embarrassed girl had just said, a horrible thought struck him and the weight of the answer made him spin around to face Ron so quickly it made the redhead start.

"Would you still have been my friend if I had been sorted into Slytherin?"

Ron could only gape at him. "What sort of question is that, Harry? No way you would've-"

"Just suppose," Harry interjected, worried now that Ron hadn't answered right away, "Would you still have been my friend?"

Ears growing red, Ron stammered, "Y-you _aren't_ though, why should I pretend that you are? There's no reason to..."

Harry's heart sank as Ron seemed unable to answer his question, despite the constant repetition. Was the reason because if Harry, having never heard about the different Houses, had chosen to stay in Slytherin, would he have lost the first friend he ever had?

"He's probably trying to make a point, dear Ronnie-kins," Fred interrupted, leaning slightly on Harry's shoulder, making him stagger, "About how not all Slytherins have to be evil gits."

"Then again, you weren't always noted for your brains, were you?" George grinned, leaning on Harry's other shoulder and effectively leveling him out. "Don't worry about the simpleton, Harry, _we _would still be your friends even if you were Snape's illegitimate offspring."

"We're just thankful you didn't get his nose-"

"-or his adversity to shampoo."

The heaviness around his heart lightening, Harry made to shrug the pair off, growling, "You guys had better get off of me before I curse you both!"

Laughing, the twins stood up abruptly, which caused Harry's balance to be kicked off, making stagger widely before getting his feet under him and glaring at the pair. "I am not an armrest!"

Still chuckling madly, Fred and George darted off to where their parents were still trying to unseal the barrier on the gateway to the Hogwarts Express, ignoring Percy racing behind them and crying out indignantly for them to behave like the civilized Wizards he knew they were.

Sighing, Harry turned to the last two Weasleys still near him; Ron and Ginny. Ron was staring at the ground, the whole back of his head a bright ruby red and Ginny was staring at everything but Harry or Ron.

"Hey, Harry?"

Exhaling sharply in relief, Harry gratefully turned to Ron, who had raised his head to show Harry a face that was as bright as his neck, his lower lip being worried between his teeth and eyes wide.

"I-I'm sorry that I was having such a hard time answering your question. It should have been easy; you're a cool guy and my best mate and I shouldn't have let the fact that you might've being in a different house affect that. Truce, mate?"

Taking the hand offered to him, Harry smiled and some of the tenseness left Ron's features as his face broke into a happy smile as the best mates shook hands, argument forgotten and forgiven.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy to make up with Ginny Weasley and the rest of the time that they waited for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to work through the barrier found her in a sullen and spiteful silence.

"Finished!" Mrs. Weasley called, much to Harry's relief; the silence was once more becoming oppressing and it bothered him that the reason was his choice of friends. "Come along, children, there's only a minute until the train leaves!"

Glad to have a distraction from the churning thoughts in his head, as well as the dirty looks he kept receiving from the youngest of the Weasley family, Harry practically sprinted to the barrier, eager to be on the train and on his way to his real home.

Going through the barrier wasn't as easy as before; Harry felt as if he were walking through molasses, or as if a hundred hands were pulling him and holding him back and as soon as he broke through to the other side, he filled his lungs with deep breaths of much needed air.

"You alright there, Harry?" Ron asked, leaning over his best friend as his parents explained everything to the conductor, who wanted to know why he had to hold up the train. "You scared me, I thought you got stuck there for a second."

"I almost did," Harry replied, finally getting his wind back and straightening from his crouched position. "I could barely get through... Somebody really doesn't want me to go to Hogwarts this year..."

Ron's face once more twisted in confusion. "Who would want to stop you from coming to Hogwarts? _Why _would they want to stop you?!"

"I don't know, Ron," Harry replied, hurrying to board the Hogwarts Express when he saw that kids were starting to stick their heads out of the window to see what the hold up was. "I just don't know..."

--

The ride on the carriages was a quiet affair and Harry was thankful for the silence this time. The ride on the Hogwarts Express had not been the relaxing trip Harry had experienced the first time he had traveled to his real home and he needed some time to think things over.

No sooner had he stepped on the train, then there was a group of students clamoring around him trying to get him to tell them why he was almost left behind and Harry could do nothing more than stand there dumbly, unable to think amid the shouted questions.

It had gone on like that for more than fifteen minutes before Hermione had shown up and pushed her way through the crowd, ordering younger and older students alike to back off and go back to their own compartments.

Harry was so happy to see her that he almost hugged her, but figured she might not like it so much, so just told her how happy he was and added a smile to it, pleased when Hermione returned it.

Explaining the reason for the delay-Hermione being a little less vocal but still curious on why they were late-Harry noticed that he hadn't seen Veronica amid the horde of gossip seekers. Filled with a sudden concern, Harry asked Hermione if she had seen her when she had boarded earlier.

Nibbling at her lip, Hermione replied that she had seen Veronica, but she looked like she had a lot on her mind, so Hermione had left her alone. Harry felt another surge of concern so powerful that, as soon Hermione finished speaking, he made his way down the corridors to look for Veronica and find out what was bothering her, hoping he could find some way to fix it.

It didn't take long for Harry to find Veronica sitting in one of the very last compartments, but she wasn't alone; surrounding her were a group of Slytherins and there seemed to be a pair from each year, glaring at her in a way that they usually reserved for Griffindors.

Harry moved so that he was out of the line of sight of the Slytherins but still able to see, for he had a sinking feeling in his gut that this group was going to put Veronica through the same thing that he had gone through with Ginny.

Sure enough, the Slytherins, most of whom were females, began to lecture her on the wrongness of being a 'ponce-y Griffindor's' friend and how they all were a 'ruddy bunch of blood traitors and Muggle lovers' while Veronica sat there in silence and Harry felt his anger growing.

How could they do that to her, her own house mates? Then Harry remembered that not even Griffindors were immune to moments of cruelty and felt ever worse for Veronica since he knew what she was going through. Yet, his pity faded as one girl threatened to curse the stupidity out of her, causing Veronica to flinch away.

Suddenly, the train was jerked to the left; almost as if a giant hand was trying to pull it off the track, causing all the occupants of the compartment to fall over and for Veronica to make her stumbling escape from the hateful atmosphere.

In the corridor, she ran into Harry, who had been using the wall to regain his footing. He used her moment of surprise to grab her arm, hurrying her down the corridor and to the compartment with the rest of his friends.

Upon seeing who had followed Harry inside, the entire room's focus was on one person, waiting to see how she would take this new development. Needless to say, she wasn't happy in the slightest.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Ginny asked sullenly, enough venom in her voice to poison the air around her and make Veronica drop her gaze to the floor.

"I brought her here," Harry answered, standing next to Veronica and entwining his hand with hers, "She's is my friend and I wanted to sit with all my friends. Got a problem with that?"

Harry's last statement had everyone staring at him in surprise; Harry was rarely, if ever, confrontational and then it was only when circumstances were dire or Malfoy was involved. To see him state something so defensively was a shock to everyone, most of all to the one he said it to.

Face red and turned down into a scowl, Ginny shoved past the pair and left the compartment, ignoring cries for her to come back or to talk about this. Harry and Veronica watched her leave with matching expressions of sadness, unable to meet anyone's gaze.

"I'm sorry."

Harry squeezed Veronica's hand. "It's not your fault, I think I did something to upset her by being more friendly with you or something... I dunno, you and Herms are the only girls that don't confuse me."

Veronica lifted her head to give Harry a watery smile as Hermione decided at that moment to to blush a light pink. After a few minutes of silence, Veronica had a question. "Do you ever... you know... regret being friends with me?"

Catching her eye, Harry softly replied, "No, and I never will."

Veronica was looking at him with such happiness after he said that and Harry knew there was something that he should do, something he_ wanted_ to do, but was unsure as to what it was. After a few seconds, he finally realized what it was that he needed to express.

Swallowing hard, Harry brought his arms up and awkwardly encircled Veronica's wrist. This was the first time he ever initiated a hug before and he was a little worried that he might be doing something wrong or that he picked the wrong time to hug her, but after a few minutes, Veronica leaned into his embrace and Harry relaxed.

--

"Harry? We're here."

Jerking out of his memories, Harry looked up to see that they were, indeed, just outside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It familiar silhouette rose like a giant in the darkness and Harry found himself longing to sink into the deep mattresses of the boy's dormitory in Griffindor Tower. It had been a long day.

Stepping out of the carriage, Harry watched as his three best friends made their way toward Hogwarts and how he came to be friends with each of them. He smiled as he remembered the moment that cemented his relationship with Ron and Hermione, as well as how Veronica had become part of their group.

_**"Do you ever... you know... regret being friends with me?"**_

__"Hey, Harry?" Ron called, realizing his friend hadn't followed them from the carriages, "Are you Petrified or something? Let's go, I'm starved!"

Shaking his head, Harry Potter followed Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and Veronica Dathey into the Great Hall amid stares an whispers, happy for the first time in a long while.

**How can I when you're one of the reasons I feel complete?**

_A/N: Hello, all. I had a hell of a time writing this out and I'm still not sure if Ginny is too evil or not._

_For those of you who are wondering, no, Ginny has not started writing in the dairy yet, she is just extremely jealous about the fact that Harry has such a close female friend. She isn't worried about Hermione because she wasn't the one that was hugging Harry._

_Feel free to tell me if Ginny's attitude feels extreme, or if I'm lacking in any way. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but no flames please. Until next time!_


	7. A Grey Area

**Chapter Seven: A Grey Area**

Nothing could have prepared Harry for the reception he received after it became official that Veronica had become part of his group of friends; where he used to receive nods, smiles, and waves of friendship, he was greeted with scowls, dirty looks and even nastier remarks. It got so bad that he had taken to keeping one hand on his wand in case someone decided to take things to the next level.

Several times during his first few weeks of Hogwarts, Harry had to convince Veronica that he didn't blame her for the way the majority of the student body was acting and remind her once again that he did _not _regret having her as a friend.

The most irritating part was, every single time he had tried to talk to Veronica, or _any_ of his friends for that matter, Gilderoy Lockhart kept popping up at his side like a bad penny and interjecting his unneeded and unwanted advice on how Harry should handle the situation.

"It's not her fault, of course," Gilderoy insisted, somehow showing every single one of his pearly whites as he spoke, completely ignoring the fact that Veronica's eyes were swimming with unshed tears and Harry was on the verge of cursing him as he continued, "Being placed in Slytherin is a matter of the mind and heart, and hers are obviously of the Darkest kind, sadly. No, Harry, it is _you_ that should take a step back, not a very wise career move to alliance yourself with a future Death Eater. Now, in my book _Magical Me_, I talk about-"

It was at that point that Veronica had run off sobbing and Gilderoy found out that the Potter boy was staring at him with a look that told him now wasn't the best time to finish his sentence.

Yet, the final snapping point, not mention the biggest shock, came after the first month into the new semester.

Taking a few extra minutes to get dressed and get ready in order to avoid the constant squabbles that dominated Ron and Hermione's conversation ever since Ron had found out that Hermione had outlined every one of Lockhart's classes with little hearts, Harry ran a weary hand through his hair as he tried to prep himself for the cold shoulder he was getting used to receiving ever since he first entered Hogwarts.

**Even with nearly everyone hating Veronica and me, as well as having a completely worthless DADA teacher, this still feels more like home than any day at the Dursley's.**

Shaking his head at the thought, Harry made his way down to the Griffindor common room, surprised by the few friendly waves that he got as he continued on his way down to breakfast.

It was a strange meal, to say the least, and Harry should have been tipped off that something strange was going to happen as soon as he sat down; for not one minute after he had filled his plate, did Veronica Dathey sit beside him, her hair ruffled and singed, almost as if she had gotten into a fight with a salamander.

"Hi, guys," Her voice was high pitched and it even cracked in a few places as she smoothed her equally ruffled robes into some sort of order, "You don't mind if I eat with you, do you?"

"But... this is the Griffindor Table," Ron replied, completely missing the glare that both Harry and Hermione were sending his way, "Shouldn't you be sitting with the Slytherins?"

"Is there a rule that says I can't sit with my friends?" Veronica's timid question sounded more like a desperate plea as she twisted the strap of her book bag in shaking fingers.

"No, but don't you think-" Ron started, before he was interrupted by a sharp poke in the side by Harry as Hermione's voice, unusually soft, cut in as she took Veronica's hand and asked, "Did something happen to you, Veronica? Something you should tell us, or maybe one of the teachers?"

Veronica was teetering on the edge of her seat, a lost look on her face as it contorted in contemplation. After a minute's thought, she finally shook her head, gave Hermione's hand a squeeze before pulling away and muttering, "No, nothing wrong."

Both Harry and Ron wanted to argue her denial, but Hermione sent them a look that said that now was not the time to start prying. Ginny's arrival a few minutes later was the deciding factor as she took one look at Veronica, decided to put her personal feelings for the Slytherin on hold and turned to her brother and Harry with an evil glare of her own, demanding, "What did you gits do?"

With everyone clamoring to assure her Veronica's condition was not the boys' fault-Harry especially, since he didn't need Ginny even **madder** at him-and that they were trying to find out what happen, no one heard Draco slither up to the table until the snake spoke.

"Well," he sneered, causing the group to start slightly before the boys reached for their wands and Hermione to stand in front of Veronica, Ginny at her side, "What do we have here?"

Harry's brows rose in surprise, a quick glance at Ron showed him that his best mate had heard it too. That wasn't _jealousy_ in Malfoy's voice, was it? What was there for Malfoy to be jealous of?!?

Then Harry caught the look Malfoy gave their little gang, him and Ron back-to-back, the girls protecting their flank and Veronica's hand edging toward her own wand. Malfoy was jealous of _them_, of the friendship they had. It made Harry wonder if Malfoy had any mates at all; Crabbe and Goyle were more like lackeys than companions.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron snapped, bringing Harry back to the present just in time to catch the disbelieving look that Ron was giving Malfoy; he believed the blond boy was faking, Harry could tell by the protective way Ron was standing in front of... _Hermione_??

Harry's head was fizzing with all the information dancing through his brain and took him a few minutes to process Malfoy's answer. "I'm just here to tell my _housemate _that she's sitting at the wrong table."

The way he said 'housemate' made it clear to Harry that he used it in the very loosest term and it immediately made all pity he had for the Slytherin disappear. "No, she's not, Malfoy. She has every right to be at this table."

The Great Hall was entirely silent, watching yet another 'Potter-Malfoy' confrontation, a thing for which the initial cause was highly debated all through Hogwarts. In the rare moment of quiet, Harry's words rang throughout the Hall, grabbing the attention of the people who weren't originally watching and made those who were even more intrigued; was a Griffindor claiming ties with a Slytherin? It couldn't be...

Now, the entire group was standing at one end of Griffindor Table, Harry and company on one side, Draco on the other and it looked like it was going to be a fight worth remembering if some innate sense hadn't informed two of the the teachers that there was some sort of trouble starting.

Or the fact that there was a group of armed children standing in the middle of the Great Hall.

"What is going on here?" Snape asked silkily, giving Potter a hateful glare as he took a position behind the Malfoy brat, who was sneering at the group of Gryffindors and... was that Dathey in the middle?

"Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, may I ask what you think you are doing?" Professor McGonagall arrived right after Snape, standing behind the students who were obviously defending a younger student.

"We weren't doing anything, Professor!" Ron was quick to insist as the group glared at Malfoy, no one making any move to put away their wands. "It wasn't until that arrogant _prick_-"

"Ronald!" Hermione hastily interrupted, looking utterly shocked at the choice of words-in front of a **teacher, **no less!-at the same moment Professor McGonagall also snapped, "Mind your language, Mr. Weasley, or I will be forced to remove House points!"

"It was nothing, Professor," came Veronica's timid reply as she moved through the sea of bodies to stand in front of her Head of House, "It was simply a misunderstanding and everyone simply overreacted."

"Gryffindors were always an emotional bunch," Snape sneered, glaring down his nose at the group in front of him, "It would be wise of you to choose your... interaction with more care."

Harry's hatred for the Potions Master increase to insurmountable measures at the dip in Veronica's shoulders Snape's words caused, and Hogwarts must have felt his anger in her air, for not two seconds after Snape's words left his mouth, did the bell signaling classes ring.

"Better being 'an emotional bunch' than having zero emotions at all," Harry heard Professor McGonagall mutter darkly as the group broke up to their separate classes, which caused him to grin widely and Hermione to stare after her in shock which almost made him miss the softly spoken reply.

"Don't worry, ma'am," Veronica muttered back, sliding smoothly by Malfoy, causing the ferret to stumble slightly, "I've been called much worse than emotional today."

-----0-----0-----0-----

Dumbledore sat behind his table in the Headmaster's office, staring bemusedly at the shouting match in front of him by two of the-he thought-most coolheaded Professors on his teaching staff.

"-completely unprofessional behavior, taking sides in a fight between students!" Professor McGonagall steamed, glaring at the man a large portion of the school called a 'greasy git' and at this point in time she was inclined to agree with.

At least, not out loud. Minerva McGonagall did have a reputation to uphold after all, being the Head of the House of Noble Gryffindors meant there was a certain decorum one had to stand by...

"I'm sure the **advice** you supplied to Miss Dathey was of the purest intentions, Professor," Snape oozed; looking, for all the world to assume, like an overgrown bat as he glowered at McGonagall.

Then again, maybe it was due to show some of that 'emotional' attitude Snape accused her of earlier...

"I'm mildly curious," Dumbledore interjected before the gathered staff members decided to start throwing **spells** instead of words, "as to what caused the argument in the first place. Granted, Harry and Draco are not on the most of civilized terms, but to pick a fight in such a public setting..."

"Potter seemed to believe that Miss Dathey was in danger from her own housemate, and implied that the Sorting Hat put her in the wrong house," Snape sneered, as if the thought was completely ludicrous.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, but with a satisfied glint in his eye that had Minerva bitting down on her rebuttal, "It would be **absurd** for a Gryffindor to even think of befriending a Slytherin, isn't that right, Minerva? Severus?"

Was that her imagination or did Minerva see a sudden flash of... pain? ...remorse? ...anger? Whatever it was, it crossed Snape's face far too quickly for her to identify, so she just brushed it off as a trick of the light and turned to the matter at hand.

"Still," Snape continued, his voice strained with the same emotion that Minerva had seen flit across his features, "it was the Gryffindors who started the confrontation and therefore deserve the loss of House points and detentions that go with rule breaking."

Once more Minerva opened her mouth the refute Snape's point-**loudly** refute his point-and once more Dumbledore cut her off before blood was spilled. Dumbledore also found himself wondering why he had called a joint conference...

"I believe, from what student and teacher have told me, that the fault lies on both sides. On Malfoy for baiting Harry and his friends, and on Harry for raising to said bait. Sometimes pride is not a trait to be envied."

Minerva was silently seething at the injustice of her Gryffindors being punished for helping Miss Dathey when she had seemed so distraught coming from the Slytherin dungeon that morning; it seemed that she was also the subject of razing as well, and Minerva McGonagall was not about to let any student be subjected to bullying, Slytherin or not.

"...therefore, I suggest a joint detention and twenty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor," Minerva caught the last of Dumbledore's speech and was surprised that she had lost herself in her thoughts for that long. "In working in close proximity, there may be a chance of a mending of bridges."

Attempting to look as if she had been paying absolute attention the whole time, Minerva sternly reminded herself she wasn't some flighty, love-struck Fourth Year to get lost in silly daydreams... Even if those daydreams involved a certain Head of House and those detention-tortures that Filch loved cackling about, especially the one with hanging and whips...

Snape simply nodded once and exited from the Headmaster's office, not bothering with a backward glance or one final insult, as was his custom and it had Minerva wondering about something.

"Dumbledore?" Minerva was unsure as to how to ask this question and was hesitant about the answer, so she simply went with the straight approach and damned the consequences. "Why did Snape react to that question about the Gryffindor and Slytherin? Did one of Snape's Snakes fall in love with one of my Lions?"

After staring at her with that soul piercing gaze that gave her the uncomfortable feeling that all her secrets were being laid out in the open, Minerva was shocked to hear Dumbledore reply quietly, "I believe one of them **has**, Minerva, I believe one of them has..."

-----0-----0-----0-----

"I can't **believe** I have to do a joint detention with Malfoy, off all people!" Ron groaned, plying his troubles with as much food within arms reach, much to Hermione's growing disgust. "It's 'ust 'ot 'air. How did **you **end up with Dathey instead of Hermione or Ginny, Harry?"

"Luck," Harry groaned, avoiding the many angry glares sent his way and focusing on Hermione's order for Ron to swallow before speaking. It had gotten around that Harry Potter had managed to get in trouble and lose twenty points from defending Veronica Dathey, the Slytherin. Needless to say, people were not happy with him.

Thankfully, Professor McGonagall had given Hermione exactly twenty points for remembering eight of the twelve uses of dragon's blood in their Transfiguration class that day and made a veiled comment on how 'people who work hard to better the world shouldn't be punished for it', but it didn't erase the fact that Harry had lost them defending a Slytherin, girl or not.

Now, being stuck in a detention for an hour with Veronica was going to be torture, not because of the girl herself, whom Harry had not seen since that morning, but because of who was going to be the Professor presiding over the detention.

Snape had decided that, since 'Potter and Dathey were the reason for the confrontation' they would have the detention he would survey, which meant that Harry would have one hour of pure hell to deal with.

Yet, even with the treat of an hour with Snape breathing down his neck, something else was bothering Harry Potter. "Have you guys seen Veronica? She isn't at the Slytherin Table..."

Hermione and Ron looked up, surprised at the change in subject and glanced down at the Slytherins to confirm Harry's statement; Ginny,on the other hand, decided that morning's episode was a one time fluke and return to her frosty silence, scribbling away at her parchment with a barely concealed frown on her face.

"I don't see her on this end either," Hermione supplied, her own look of worry growing as no sign of their only Slytherin friend was forthcoming, "Was she in Potions earlier today?"

"I think so," Ron muttered, using his height advantage to check both ends of the Great Hall, "I remembering Snape snapping at her for being late... which is weird. Was she ever late before?"

"No, she hasn't," Harry muttered distractedly, now raising from the table, "I'm going to go look for her. Hermione, could you check the girl's bathrooms for me, please?"

Nodding briskly, Hermione went to check all the girl's bathroom and Harry left to hunt down the missing Slytherin, Ron following a minute later with one last, forlorn look at the mound of food he had to leave behind.

The search of the ground floor showed no signs of their ebony-haired friend and Harry was just about to start on the second floor when a low, raspy voice suddenly cut through the silence of the castle.

"_...Kill... Freed.... So hungry...."_

Stumbling in shock for the next few steps, Harry jerked his head around to face Ron in disbelief. He had just rounded the corner when the voice started speaking. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, mate," Ron replied, panting as he stopped in front of his friend, "She isn't in any of the classrooms and the teachers said that she was in all of her classes. Do you want to check the next floor.

Harry was just about to answer when the raspy voice called again, sliding across his skin like cut glass, causing him to shiver slightly and for Ron to look at him quizzically.

"_Hunger unbearable... Need to feed... Kill... I smell food..."_

"I hear something," Harry breathed, turning slowly and looking up the stairs, Ron staring at him in confusion all the while. "Something that wants to eat... something that wants to kill..."

Not waiting for Ron to answer, much less even nod his acknowledgement, Harry darted up the stairway in front of him, following the voice that hissed from the need to feed.


	8. The Reason

_**A/N: **__I now know better than to try to rush out a story and try to update it at two o'clock in the morning._

_Everyone who read this story a couple of days ago knows what I'm talking about, for those that don't, let's just say that having multiple Harry Potter stories and trying to decipher which chapter goes where when you're half asleep leads to some of the most interesting reviews you could get._

_So, to make up for my faus pas, I'm quick updating two chapters of _**When Light and Dark Collide** _for your viewing enjoyment._

_Now, let us get to the story before my author's notes become longer than the chapter!_

* * *

* * *

**Chapter Eight: The Reason**

* * *

Veronica sat locked in a bathroom stall, all curled up in a ball on the seat, wishing for maybe the hundredth time that day alone that her mother was there so she could hug away all the hurt, confusion, anger and basically every single crummy emotion that had her in its grasp.

It had started out so nice today too; she had made it through the morning while being mostly ignored by her fellow Slytherins until she made it to Herbology, a class they shared with the Gryffindors.

It was **then**, not before, that Pansy and her crowd of girls started hassling her, with both insults and Curses, when she grinned at Hermione for getting the question about Mandrakes right. Leading to Professor Sprout threatening to take fifty points from Slytherin before Pansy and her posse quit.

Finding refuge at the Gryffindor table later at lunch had only lead to Malfoy snarling at her, Harry defending her, the lot of them almost coming to blows, magical or physical, it didn't matter. Their favorite Professors had shown up and the lot of them lost points all around.

** What** was the big, bloody deal with being friends with a Gryffindor? **Where** was the rule that said that her house and Gryffindor house were to be mortal enemies? **Yes**, she had heard that Slytherin had turned out the worst wizards ever, but hadn't Harry's parents been betrayed by their best friend, who was also a Gryffindor? That's what it said in **The Birth of a Hero **written by an J. R. Lupe...

Then again, most of the books she had read about Harry said that he had been raised by everything from Maharajahs to Merlin himself; but, from the little Veronica could find out about Harry's relatives, she had to conclude that not everything that was written was true.

Sighing, Veronica shifted in her seat, stomach rumbling loudly, reminding her that dinner was almost over and she had yet to eat; but she wasn't up to facing her house-mates after losing twenty points for being friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione, for being friends with Gryffindors. Something they had not forgiven her for ever since she first met the Trio last year.

Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins; what was the big bloody story behind all the hate between the houses? All they were suppose to be were representatives of certain kinds of wizards and witches, not teams on which to fight against. Gryffindors were suppose to honor bravery above all else and Ravenclaws were suppose to house the smartest wizard and witches in Hogwarts, but Hermione was living proof that there were Ravenclaw-smart Gryffindors, but the minute Veronica tries to be friends with the girl, the whole school goes crazy.

Brushing away the tears that the latest bout of torment had brought, Veronica told herself that she knew that it didn't matter what other people thought, only what she felt about her friends was what really mattered; it was just when even the **teachers** seemed to be on the same ideas as her house-mates that made it so impossible to keep a brave face about the whole thing.

Professors Flitwick and Sprout weren't so bad, they were only interested in making sure their students knew Charms and Herbology, respectively. It was watching Professors Snape and McGonagall squabble that reminded Veronica of two tigers fighting over the same piece of meat... With their students being the meat.

_ Maybe I _**should **_have asked to be in a different house_, Veronica mused as she tried to find a comfortable position in a two by three cubicle, toilet paper roll digging into her side, as she remembered the feeling of that aged clothing being set on her head the very fist day she arrived at Hogwarts;scared stiff she was going to end up being sent straight home. _Maybe I _**should **_**ha**__ve told it something else..._

* * *

* * *

She hadn't been nervous, or excited, or scared even; it had been an uncomfortable combination of the three that had made her walk around with her lip tightly closed and her teeth clenched in the fear that she was about to be deeply, horribly sick.

The chattering around Veronica was a dull noise compared to the buzzing in her head as she cast her eyes around to try to find something to focus on to quell the tumult in her stomach...

There was a teacher in the blackest robes she had even seen, did he even wash those...?

There was the giant, Hagrid, that lead them there. He was smiling at all of them like he knew what was coming and knew it would all turn out okay. That smile, the way it stretched from one side of his face to the other, had made her feel a little better. But only a little bit...

"My brothers told me a little about the Sorting one time," A voice cut through the chatter surrounding, catching Veronica's attention with its topic. "Something about wrestling a troll..."

Nope, nope, **definitely** not the thing to listen to if she wanted to keep her lunch down for much longer...

The girl next to her, who later turned out to be one of her best mates, was fervently reciting all the spells in the **Standard Book of Spells, Grade One**, a book that Veronica had barely glanced through...

Then there was the girl on her other side, going through every color of the rainbow; white, red, green, blue. Maybe Veronica should tell her oxygen was a **good** thing before she passed out...

Thankfully, her name was near the beginning, so Veronica had only maybe ten minutes to wonder if she would make it if she suddenly dashed toward a bathroom before her name was called.

Veronica could clearly remember the hardness of the wooden seat under her as she sat on the stool, the way her body began to shake like a leaf in a storm as McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on her head, her hand resting on Veronica's back for a moment before she moved away. Professor McGonagall had probably seen the Hat shaking on her head, Veronica knew a few of her house-mates did by the scattering of giggles throughout the Great Hall.

Then her entire attention was captured by a soft, but powerful, voice that began to speak in her ear.

"Ah, Veronica **Dathey**, is it?" If she could see the Hat, Veronica was sure it would be grinning, "Going by your mother's surname, are you?"

_ She never told me my father's name,_ Veronica thought, hoping against hope that the Hat could hear her, _She said it hurt too much to remember..._

"I don't disbelieve that, it was not a thing to forgive lightly... Caused a great many people a great deal of pain."

_ Could you tell me about my father?_ Veronica gripped the edges of the seat, praying that the Hat would tell her **something** about the man that had helped bring her into this world... the man she knew her mother still loved.

"Ah, ah, ah!" The Hat took on the tone of a disapproving parent, "I can see everything in your head, child. Your mother said not a word to anybody about your father, wizard or Muggle."

_ But you're not any_**body, y**_ou're the Sorting Hat! You'd know him better than anyone! You could help find out how to make up for the wrong he committed, the wrong that makes Mum refuse to speak his name!_

"You're a sly one, aren't you? An easy trait to Sort," The Hat laughed, reminding Veronica of why she was there in the first place; her grip on the stool tightened. "Do you have a House in mind?"

Swallowing down any more questions about her father, despite her burning need to learn more about the man, Veronica timidly replied, _You're the Sorting Hat, right? Aren't _**you** _suppose to... you know... Sort me?_

The Hat's laughter lasted a good five minutes before he replied. "Finally! A student that knows the score! Most of your peers complained that they knew themselves better than I did and **demanded** that I change where they were Sorted!"

Veronica was pretty sure she surprised a few people by grinning then; it was just that the Hat sounded so indignant that she couldn't help but think that the whole thing was kind of funny. _I just want to do well, go far in life so that my family doesn't have to scrimp and save and crawl to get by._

The thought that crossed Veronica's mind was of her mother working two jobs; one as a Ministry worker dealing with wizard-Muggle relations, the other being a sales clerk at a book store, just so that they could have a roof over their heads.

"Sly and ambitious," The smugness in the Hat's voice surprised Veronica a little; she didn't know hats could be smug, magical or not. "A lethal combination and a deciding one as well, you shall be in SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

* * *

_ And my life has been a living hell ever since_, Veronica thought morosely, finally uncurling from her sitting position and stretching tiredly. _It was also the first time I was worried I had disappointed Mom..._

The first letter that Veronica had sent to her mother, which had included the House she had been Sorted into, had been the longest in receiving an answer. The entire time, Veronica was worried that she had given her mother a heart attack or something horrible like that.

Then came the reply that had made her hold on to her friendship with Harry, Ron and Hermione, despite what her house-mates had claimed, despite what years of Hogwart's history demanded.

_ She told me how proud she was of me, how glad she was that I had been accepted into _**any** _House, no matter what the rumors about it said_. Veronica smiled at the memory of the splotched letter, ink running from all the underlining and exclamation notes her mother made, adding that Slytherin House was bloody lucky the Hat decided _she_ belonged _there_!!!

Bolstered by her trip down memory lane and her crummy feelings dimmed by her tears, Veronica pulled herself up as tall as she could and gave a short nod. What other people thought didn't matter, no matter how much they tried to make it matter; she was her own person and no one else could tell her who she could be friends with or who she shouldn't like. That was her decision and hers alone.

Nodding once more, Veronica threw open her door, intent to make sure the whole school knew she wasn't one to easily back down from pressure, and promptly ran into one of the biggest opposer to her relationship with her three best mates... An opposer with hair the color of a flaming sunset.

"Ginny?!?"

"Veronica?"

* * *

* * *

Ron caught up with Harry after his third run of the second floor, looking down both ends of a hallway with a completely frustrated expression dominating his face, muttering, "Where did it go...?"

"Where did **what** go?" Ron panted, clutching at a stitch in his side. Damn, but Harry could move fast when he wanted to!

"The voice," Harry replied, his frown getting deeper as he realized Ron was staring at him like he just lost his mind, "Didn't you hear it? It was right next to us!"

"There wasn't a voice, Harry," Ron replied, looking around to make sure no one heard Harry going on about voices that weren't there, they bothered him enough already, "Let's go see if Hermione found Veronica in any of the lavatories..."

Still frowning, Harry let himself be lead away, deciding to talk about it with Veronica later. Maybe she'd believe him...

Neither boy noticed a small collection of stone rats in the corner of the hallway they just exited, or the tail that scrapped against the floor...

* * *

* * *

Veronica could do nothing except stare at the younger girl sprawled on the floor, whose own mouth was hanging open in disbelief. Then she remembered her manners and began to help Ginny pick up her things that had spilled when the girls bumped into each other.

"Are you okay?" Veronica asked, checking an inkwell to make sure it didn't crack open before handing it to the young redhead.

"I'm fine," Ginny replied shortly, snatching the inkwell from Veronica, which made her blink in surprise, before snapping, "What are you doing in here, anyway?"

"She was crying," Moaning Myrtle's sudden input caused both girls to start as she floated over to them from the loo on the far end, where she had been so quiet, Veronica hadn't even realized that she was there.

Picking up a small, black leather-bound book, Veronica felt an unexplainable anger at the snippy tone Ginny was using and the gleeful way Myrtle had announced she had been crying, so she snapped at both girls, "It's the girl's lavatory, I can be here if I want and I can **cry** here if I want as well!"

Ginny face twisted even more as she practically spat her next words in Veronica's face, "You Slytherins are all alike! I was just going to tell you that Harry and everyone were looking for you, you ungrateful snake!"

With that Ginny turned around and stomped out of the lavatory, leaving Veronica to gape after her in shock for a few minutes.

"Well, that went well," It was a good thing Myrtle was a ghost, because it would have been physically impossible for someone living to look that pleased about what had just happened. "You have an absolutely **horrible** temper!"

"I don't normally, something about her just set me off," Veronica muttered, ignoring the ghost-girl's cackles in order to examine the book she held even more closely, "What d'you suppose this is?"

"OH!" Myrtle's screech of delight made Veronica's ears ring as she looked down at the journal with an absolutely devilish grin, "Maybe it's that redhead's diary! Open it and see what it says! Maybe she has a secret crush or something!"

Turning the journal over in her hands as Myrtle continued to crackle above her, Veronica mulled over what she should do. On the one hand, she would be forever horrified if someone had found as personal as **her **diary; on the other hand, maybe she could finally figure out why Ginny Weasley was so angry with her...

_ Maybe even find something that gives me a leverage over the little brat,_ _make her eat her words about how all Slytherins are alike, _a voice whispered evilly in her mind, right as she opened the journal to the first page.

Only to find it, and every page after it, completely and utterly blank. Not a note, not a scribble, not one word on one page.

Feeling disappointed and relieved that there was nothing there in equal amounts, Veronica was about to close the book when the voice piped up again, this time urging her to write in the book herself and see what happened then.

Ignoring Myrtle's cries and demands to know about what Veronica was doing, the ebony-haired Slytherin walked over to the loo she had exited only a few minutes before, ruffled through her book-bag and pulled out a quill.

"Fine, let's just ignore ol' Moaning Myrtle," the young ghost sobbed, throwing her hands over her face. "She's not a person, why bother with **her **feelings?"

With a final screech like a mating cat, Myrtle dived back to the stall at the end of the row and into the plumbing with a watery crash.

_ Is she always that melodramatic?_ Veronica thought idly, unscrewing an inkwell and dipping her quill in it before opening the journal in her hands to a random page in the middle, her quill hovering above the page for only a few seconds.

_ Ginny Weasley dropped this journal in the girl's lavatory._ She wrote, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise; but the only people in the bathroom were her and a loudly gurgling toilet. _Does it contain a way of returning it to her?_

Her words disappeared into the page, but did not leak through to the other; it was as if the ink simply disappeared, replacing Veronica's print with a slightly curvy, but completely masculine scrawl.

_That's too bad, I rather liked talking to the redheaded hothead. May I inquire as to is holding this diary now?_

Once more, Veronica's quill hovered over the diary before she wrote in her next reply. It was just a diary, if it asked something she didn't like she could just close it; she just wanted some insight as to why Ginny hated her so much before she gave it back to her anyway...

_My name is Veronica Dathey. I'm in Slytherin._

The reply come back much quicker than the last one, splotching the letters a little in the writer's haste.

_Hello, Veronica. My name is Tom Mavolo Riddle. I'm a Slytherin as well, or rather, I was..._

_A/N: Dun, dun, dun-dun!_


	9. The Little Black Book

**Chapter Nine: The Little Black Book**

Ginerva Weasley decided she was one of the worst witches in the history of wizard kind; no, in the entire world, both Muggle and magical. The reason for this was very simple:

She had let her jealousy and anger overrule her until she had isolated herself from everyone near her, including her family at Hogwarts, and had been absolutely evil to everyone that tried to find out what was wrong.

When Ron had first started at Hogwarts, Ginny had been alone in the Burrow, excluding her mother and father, for the first time in her entire life. She reveled in the quiet and solitude for the first couple of weeks, but the loneliness began to set in and she began to look forward to the scarce letters that Ron sent home.

The letters were an added treasure for, besides hearing about Hogwarts, Ron wrote about becoming friends with Harry Potter. **THE** Harry Potter, the boy who defeated You-Know-Who when he was just a baby and was Ginny's idol ever since.

Even better were the ones that Ron had sent directly to her, the first lines always including a reference to the fact that Harry had told Ron to write to his little sister, which had only increased her admiration for the ebony-haired boy that had asked her mother how to get on the platform at 9 3/4.

Then came the incredible summer before school started, the summer where Ginny got her fondest wish and deepest desire granted; Harry Potter had come to stay with them, in her house!

When she first ran into Harry Potter, and she had quite literally **ran** into him, Ginny's initial reaction had been shock; she had overheard her brothers talking about a rescue attempt after Harry hadn't answered any of Ron's letters, but she had never thought that they would put it into action so soon. Her almost immediate reaction after that was horror at the thought that they might've been too late and that the boy standing in front of her might have been a ghost.

The Harry Potter of Ginny's imaginings had been tall, bronzed skinned and would see the girl past her six brothers, see something special in her that Ginny herself was looking for so she could stand out instead of being shadowed. **This** Harry was short and skinny, pale, and was Ron's best mate who only saw her as the little sister; all in all, nothing like she had thought. Then he smiled at her and Ginny felt herself blush all the way to her toes.

Despite the fact that the real deal was nothing like what she had imagined, Ginny wanted to prove to Harry Potter that she was just as good as her brothers, but every time she tried, she ended up mucking it up somehow.

Take, for example, when they had talked for the first time, she had been so desperate to make a good impression that she had started babbling like a complete ponce and then, when they had been playing Quidditch-something the boys had **never** included her in-Harry had complemented on the fact that she had decent Beater skills, she tried twirling her bat to impress him even more and ended up hitting Fred in the nose!

Determined to prove she wasn't some klutzy little girl, Ginny was on her guard on the trip to Diagon Alley; she watched every little step she took, made sure to speak the incantation to Diagon Alley clearly so she would be right there when Harry came out, so she could talk to him before her parents showed up and embarrassed her; Dad with his obsession on everything Muggle, Mom with her never-ending fretting. She should have known her plan was ruined from the start.

Not only was Harry **not** at the gate he was supposed to be, two minutes after they had found him-saved by Hagrid from Knockturn Alley, of all places-did an ebony-haired stranger throw herself into Harry's arms, cutting Ginny off from doing the same thing.

If that wasn't bad enough, as soon as they were finished hugging, Harry and Veronica-Ginny found out her name a few minutes later, as well as the fact that she was a **Slytherin**-spent the rest of the trip holding hands and walking together!

Everyone seemed to brush the fact that she was a Slytherin aside and Ginny, who had grown up with 'every single witch or wizard that went bad had been in Slytherin' resounding every day in her ears, could not understand **why**. It made it that much more unbearable, that Harry had someone like that as such a close friend, and she was from a house of Dark wizards and murderers.

So, instead of getting to know the boy who was her brother's best mate and her idol ever since she was four, Ginny spent most of her time locked up in her room, feeling depressed that she hadn't wowed Harry like she planned and succumbing to random bursts of anger as she got her things ready for Hogwarts.

It was during that time that she found it, found the thing that seemed to amplify every negative emotion she had when she held it. She had been holding it when Harry had invited her to a Quidditch game and she had snapped at him, nearly clipped his nose off and almost immediately felt bad about it as soon as she had set the journal down.

Ginny had first been curious as to where the diary had come form, but then remembered-this was one of the few times that she was actually in a good mood-that Harry had dumped all of his Gilderoy books into her cauldron. Maybe he had given it to her as a kind of gift...?

Maybe that also explained the eerie way that the journal seemed to draw her; the way everything seemed so horrible and that the only way she felt better was when that journal was tucked against her chest in her arms, jacket, shirt, whatever was the closest she could use. It had been nestled against her chest, between her shirt and jacket, when she had told Harry off for being friends with a ruddy Slytherin when **everyone** knew how evil they were... and she had just put quill to the first page when Harry had entered their compartment moments later with the _**very Slytherin**_ they had been fighting so fiercely over.

Ginny did not start writing in the journal until her second day at Hogwarts, and it was then that she realized that it could not have come from Harry by the ratty edges and the gold inscription on the back that said it had previously belonged to a T. M. Riddle. Whether they were friends or not, Ginny was pretty sure that Harry wouldn't give anyone anything so ratty and obviously secondhand.

Having the diary's previous owner greet her when she began writing in it-and thank Merlin it hadn't been anything **too **personal-also confirmed Ginny's suspicions that this was not a gift from her brother's best mate and something different entirely. Something special, just for her.

Tom was just so **understanding** about everything that had been happening to her; it was then that she had agreed with Harry about not all Slytherins were bad and was even grateful to whoever had slipped the diary into her book. Having someone who understood what it was like to be **constantly** overlooked and pushed to the side made Ginny consider the boy in her journal her best friend; and, the fact that she could carry him in her pocket wherever she went, so she could have a listening ear anywhere at any time, made it all the more special.

Then the blackouts started to happen.

At first, Ginny thought it was just the stress of starting at Hogwarts with four older brothers, none of which had any time for their little sister who was having such a hard time making friends and could barely keep up in any of her classes. Then they started to occur more and more frequently, usually around the time she wrote in a certain black journal and they'd always end with her in weird places, completely covered in rooster feathers...

It was starting to scare her and the replies Tom wrote were beginning to sound less and less like the friend she had made and more like the git who was in Harry and Ron's year that pranced around with his nose in the air. It had scared her so badly that she had gone to the deserted girls' lavoratory on the second floor to get rid of the dairy, all under the disguise of looking for an absent Veronica.

Imagine her surprise when she actually found the girl!

Seeing the tear tracks that Veronica had missed wiping away sent a dim pang of regret to flow through Ginny, but it was overstepped by the pain in her rump from colliding into Veronica when she entered the girls' lavatory.

After getting over her momentary daze, Veronica immediately dropped to help Ginny pick up all the supplies that had fallen out her book-bag during their collision, making another twinge of regret hit Ginny as she asked the knee-jerk question of what Veronica was doing in the lavatory.

Myrtle's appearance startled Ginny just as much as it had Veronica and since the ghost-girl was well known for reveling in other's pain, Ginny was shocked at how personal Veronica took Myrtle's comment. It also made all regretful feelings she had for the girl disappear; Ginny Weasley was not one to be shouted at, especially if she had done absolutely nothing wrong!

Snapping out her excuse-that she had been helping Harry look for Veronica-Ginny spun on her heel and left the bathroom, clutching her ripped book-bag to her chest and wishing all Slytherins would suddenly develop boils; large, **painful** boils.

She just made into Gryffindor Tower a few seconds before Harry had and only stayed in the common room long enough to hear him tell Seamus and Dean that when they had finally found Veronica, she was acting 'a little off'.

Stomping her way to the First Years' dormitory, Ginny fumbled through her book-bag to stuff Riddle's diary in the bottom of her trunk until she could find a better time to get rid of it; only to find, after nearly tearing up the entire girls' room, that the journal was gone.

Racking her brain, Ginny tried to remember when she had last seen the diary; she knew she had it in Herbology and in Care of Magical Creatures... Ginny's heart began to race as she vaguely remembered sticking it in her book-bag before heading to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, she was even doubling checking that it was there when she collided into the older girl.

Heart plummeting down into her stomach and pounding nearly twice as fast as before, Ginny realized that this could only mean one thing; Riddle's diary, and all of her deepest, darkest secrets were now in Veronica Dathey's hands.

* * *

Ginny was walking on eggshells for most of the next morning, just waiting for Veronica to make some remark on one of the things she had told Tom, but the Slytherin didn't even seem to notice anyone around her. As a matter of fact, Draco Malfoy had to call Veronica's name at least half a dozen times before she even acknowledged that she was being spoken to.

Looking over at Harry and Ron, Ginny considered telling them about Riddle and the diary, but she knew Ron would yell at her about 'trusting something that you couldn't see where it keeps its brain' and Harry would just go along with whatever Ron said. No help there...

Making up her mind, Ginny waited until the bell announcing classes tolled and made her way over to the Slytherin table, ignoring the whispers of 'blood traitor' and several more nasty comments as she caught up with Veronica.

"What do you want, Weaselette?" Malfoy drawled, somehow dragging Veronica's distracted attention to the fact that Ginny was standing toe-to-toe with Malfoy, matching sneer for sneer.

"Ginny?" Veronica blinked a few times and looked around the Great Hall as if surprised to find herself there, a feeling the youngest Weasley was very familiar with. "What are you doing over here?"

"I need to talk to you," Ginny replied urgently, eyes fixed on the black leather book tucked in Veronica's grasp. When Veronica noticed her gaze and tightened her grip on the diary, Ginny stressed, "It's **important**."

"Trying to find a way to make your family some money, Weaselette?' Malfoy sneered, causing several of his cronies to jeer and for Ginny's face to flame as her hands tightened to fists beside her. If talking to Veronica wasn't so important...

"Stuff it, Draco," Veronica muttered, not really paying attention to the group around her. Eyes scanning the Great Hall once more, Veronica leaned over to Ginny and whispered, "Can we talk at lunch? We have classes now and I have that detention with Professor Snape later..."

"You have only three minutes to get to your classes, children, I suggest you toddle off now," Professor Lockhart interrupted Ginny's answer as he began to push them toward the hallways and stairways, ignoring the disdainful looks the majority of the students were sending him.

Barely having time to nod her approval of Veronica's plan and see her nod in return, Ginny was all but thrown into her classroom by Professor Lockhart, much to Flitwick's annoyance and just in time for class to start.

They were suppose to be learning a simple charm that made sour drinks taste like chocolate-sadly, they couldn't apply it to medicines because it dulled the effect or something like that-but Ginny was so nervous about her upcoming confrontation with Veronica that all her drinks tasted like burnt chocolate, or still had the original drink lingering as an aftertaste.

Barely making it through the rest of her classes, Ginny all but barreled over her fellow Gryffindors on her way to the Great Hall in her haste to get the diary away from Veronica and down the nearest toilet or, better yet, in the nearest fireplace.

Unfortunately, as soon as Ginny spotted the ebony-haired Slytherin already sitting at her House table between Crabbe and Malfoy, Professor Snape decided to swoop in on Veronica before she could.

"Mrs. Dathey," Professor Snape growled, causing Veronica to look toward her Head of House, "It seems that Potter will be serving his detention tonight with Professor Lockhart due to his **interest** in the boy, instead of the original punishment."

Professor Snape's lip curled even more, obviously believing this was due to some sort of special standard that everyone was suppose to hold Harry to, but Veronica didn't even react to the news; as a matter of fact, she was blinked rapidly at Professor Snape like she forgot who he was as Harry glared at the back of Snape's head from across the Great Hall.

"Okay?"

Professor Snape sneered down at the girl in front of him, who now looked as if the whole conversation was going in one ear and out the other, hitting nothing in between. "You will be serving your detention with me tonight as usual, Dathey. Just because the other teachers deem to have favorites, do not expect me to do the same, even if you are a student from my House. I will not allow any more leniency toward you children than what my peers already heap on Potter's enlarged head-"

Ginny could see Veronica zoning out as Professor Snape decided to indulge in his favorite subject; detailing the many flaws of Harry Potter as said boy's glare grew darker. Ginny didn't understand why he seemed to hate Harry so much, and there were even Sixth and Seventh Years who had never seen him reacted so hatefully toward a student before...

Deciding to figure out Professor Snape's utter loathing for Harry later, Ginny tuned into his rant just in time for Veronica to be snapped at, asking if she had been paying any attention to a word being said.

Veronica jumped, clearly **not **paying any mind as she nearly knocked Malfoy off his seat next to her, causing the pale boy to give her a little push, almost as if he was trying to get her to pay attention. Gathering her bearings from the collision, Veronica stammered, "Y-yes, Professor Snivelly."

You could hear a pin drop; Professor Snape was looking at Veronica like she was Harry reborn as a female, all the students sitting near her had scooted down several seats so they wouldn't get caught in the explosion that was sure to happen and, from across the Great Hall, Harry, Ron and the twins were looking at Veronica in something very close to awe while the female herself jaw dropped when she realized what she said.

Ginny, however, felt sick to her stomach as she remembered that nickname being told to her as well when she had mentioned to Tom how mean-spirited and bigoted a certain teacher she had was. It was right after her first class in Potions, and she had been feeling particularly soar because Harry was chatting with Veronica a few feet down the hall from her. Tom's comment about Snape's habit to sniff whenever she was around had made her feel better, at the time...

Veronica seemed to have begun writing in the small black book she had found in the girls' lavatory, and Ginny was now more worried about the girl being Cursed than getting the diary away from her.

Professor Snape's face was splotchy with color and it looked like a blood vessel in his head was going to pop as he leaned down over the Slytherin table with the air of a vulture over a dying animal. Veronica shrunk away from his towering form, but there was only so far she could go before falling off of the bench

"Detention, Mrs. Veronica Dathey, for the rest of the month." There was a few-namely half of the students-outcries of disbelief that this was all the punishment Veronica was going to get until Professor Snape took a breath to continue, "You will be cleaning, mulching, and fertilizing the Whomping Willow under Professor Sprout's care. By hand. No magic."

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall almost caved in from the collective gasp that followed Professor Snape's detention; the Whomping Willow was a vicious tree that swung at anybody that looked at it crossed-eyed, a pretty impressive feat for something without eyes of its own. To be told to take care of it was every students' worst nightmare, as a matter of fact, it was a popular threat by Professor Sprout to get her more disobedient students to behave.

Veronica, of course, knew this and had opened her mouth to complain when the look on Professor Snape's face told her that her punishment was not negotiable. Swallowing hard, Veronica nodded once and Professor Snape made his way to the Head Table, where it looked like a sudden bout of coughing had broken out.

Not wasting another minute in case Veronica was bombarded with students that wanted to either congratulate her on insulting Professor Snape without dying or ask her **why** she did something so **stupid-**Malfoy was looking at her like he wanted to do both**-**Ginny walked over to the Slytherin table, grabbed the older girl by the arm and pulled her out of the Great Hall and into a vacant classroom.

"Now," Ginny sighed, locking the door and turning to Veronica, who was looking much more alert as she glanced around the empty room, "Let's get started."

"Yes," Ginny was suddenly struck by the thought that maybe locking the door wasn't such a good idea as Veronica focused on her with a smile that sent shivers up Ginny's spine. "let us."

* * *

_A/N; I got a review that said that my characters seemed to be acting a bit extreme for only twelve and eleven year olds. There are two reasons for this;_

_One, it's been a long time since I was eleven years old and don't really remember how to write that kind of character._

_Two, as I hope to explain in this chappie, Riddle's diary acts as a sort of amplifier for negative emotions, making the person more willing to write in the diary and give Riddle a body from their stolen energy_

_Anyway, please feel free to tell me how I'm doing and I'll try to get better...._

_As always, read and review!_


	10. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Chapter Ten: Curiouser and Curiouser...**

Girls were strange things...

Despite the fact that most boys lived by this statement as a rule concerning the female species since they were of the age of four, Harry actually had a reasonable excuse for this thought: Veronica and Ginny were acting like bosom buddies after Ginny had been treating Veronica like she cared the Bubonic Plague ever since she first met the ebony haired Slytherin.

Harry was not the only one confused at this; both Ron and Hermione, one of them definitely **not** a boy and had understanding of the female mind, had expressed concern regarding the abrupt change in their relationship. Ron was worried that Ginny spending time with Veronica and other Slytherins would somehow corrupt her and Hermione was worried that one of them was blackmailing the other into something that required them spending time together.

This seemed to be the popular consensus with the rest of the Hogwarts population as well; for whenever one of the girls tried to speak about something other than what the original conversation had been about, the other would pull them away for a few minutes 'discussion' and when they came back it would be as if the girls had been reprogrammed or something...

Veronica seemed to be the one that mostly tried to tell everyone something, particularly when Harry was around or she saw him coming toward them, but Ginny was always dragging her off for a sudden study session, or a new bit of gossip, or taking a trip to the Hospital Wing for a new cream or charm for the multitude of bruises and cuts Veronica got from the Whomping Willow. It was starting to bother Harry more and more as time went on...

Another thing that confused Harry was that they seemed to be sharing a black, leather-bound diary when Harry had yet to see Hermione let anyone even borrow her notes without her breathing down their necks. Veronica had been an oddity from the start, being a Slytherin that actually had a soul(Ron's words), but having Ginny being best friends with Veronica after spending the better half of the first semester describing her as worse than Professor Snape's lovechild(again, Ron's words) was really throwing them all for a loop.

As a matter of fact, the only time Harry had ever seen Veronica and Ginny acting like their normal selves in a long while was at the Quidditch practice that happened that Sunday...

Harry had been woken up at the crack of dawn by Oliver Wood, his fanatic Quidditch Captain and had been informed of a thousand new Quidditch plays as he dozed in his seat. Then they went out onto the pitch, Harry surprised by th fact that when his friends came out to watch, Veronica had brought him some marmalade on toast to munch on before he started playing.

Flying around the pitch had woken Harry up far more than Oliver's lectures had, but he was slightly distracted by the clicking noises coming from the stands as Colin Creevey, a first year who had developed an obsession with Harry, was taking picture after picture of the practicing team.

Oliver had been suspicious that Colin had been some kind of Slytherin spy, but that was quickly pushed to the side as George informed Oliver that the Slytherins didn't need a spy, they were there in person.

Oliver landed on the pitch, fuming at Flint that he had booked the pitch for Gryffindor and that Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain who was at least three times as big as Oliver, and his team could clear off. Flint's only response was to smirk and say that they had a note, from a teacher. Three guesses who...

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Veronica were drawn to the commotion by now and arrived just in time for Oliver to finish reading the note from Professor Snape stating that the Slytherin team needed to train their new Seeker. A Seeker who turned out to be Draco Malfoy, walking past the parted Slytherins and grinning like he just won a thousand Galleons.

Harry wasn't really worried about Malfoy being the new Slytherin Seeker, until they pulled out the new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones that Malfoy's father had 'gifted' to the team when Malfoy was accepted.

It was then that Malfoy decided to insult the Gryffindor team's brooms and, by extension, their families. It wasn't until he started on the Weasley twins brooms that Hermione had angrily interjected that at least the Gryffindor team had talent and didn't need to buy their way onto the team.

It was then that Harry learned a Wizard curse word and the violent reaction to it...

As soon as the word 'Mudblood' left Malfoy's lips, it was as if the entire Gryffindor team had surged forward to kill the boy, his own teammates just barely keeping them back, but what really caught Harry's attention was the two females currently driving him up the wall:

Veronica surprised Harry with the strength in her petite frame as managed to tackle Goyle, who was standing in a guarding position in front of Malfoy, locking him in a wrestling hold and leaving a space open for someone to jump through.

Which Ginny did, and being a year younger and a few inches smaller, she used her lithe frame to duck under the arm thrown out to stop her and got right up in Malfoy's face, slapping him as hard as she could.

Staggering from the unexpected-not to mention, surprisingly **strong-**blow, Malfoy stumbled right into Ron's line of fire as he pulled out his wand and yelled, "You'll pay for that insult, Malfoy! Eat slugs!!"

Flint, obviously worried that the brooms Malfoy's father gave them would be revoked if his son was harmed, threw himself at Ron, knocking them both into the tangled mass of Quidditch players... which only stopped fighting when a loud curse was uttered, followed by a very audible _crunch_.

Thankfully, no one was hurt beside a few cuts and bruises; unthankfully, the crunching sound was Ron's wand snapping in half under someone's foot, making him curse the fact that he hadn't got a better shot at Malfoy and immediately praising his sister when he found out she **had**.

Aside from turning fuchsia from the rare praise, Ginny didn't say anything to anyone after everything had settled down and the Gryffindor players had stormed angrily off the pitch amid Oliver's furious rants and vows of crushing their Slytherin opponents at the next match. A few days later, she was back to avoiding all of them in favor of spending all of her time with Veronica.

"For Merlin's sake, just go talk to her, Ron!" Hermione exploded after another muttered remark came from the taller redhead as he watched his sister converse in low tones with Veronica... at the Slytherin table. "Tell her you have a problem with her sitting there, instead of making annoying comments about it that she can't even hear!"

Blinking at Hermione for a few seconds, the normally clueless Weasley made his way over to his sister's side to discuss things with her. Harry waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Hermione with a knowing smile that had her breaking out into a lovely shade of garnet.

"Wow, Herms, I've seen you yelling at each other over stuff before, but nothing like **that**," Harry's smile spread wider as Hermione's blush grew darker, "He hasn't really been as bad as the other girls in our year, what made you snap?"

"I'm just tired that he keeps saying that Ginny is going to get 'corrupted' hanging around all those 'ruddy Slytherins', completely **forgetting** the fact that Veronica-our **friend**!-is one of those 'ruddy Slytherins'!" Hermione suddenly swelled with righteous anger, so much that Harry was worried that she might explode, "**I** seem to be the **only one** that sees the way she flinches when someone mentions how all Slytherins are 'evil berks' or something horrible like that..."

Harry, remembering the way Veronica looked when Ron had pointed that out at the beginning of the year, was about to respond that **he** never thought of her that way when a sudden commotion behind them interrupted him.

Hermione swiveled around when the sound of shouting was carried across the hall, showing that the Weasley temper was in full swing in the form of Ron and Ginny inches away from each other and yelling right in the others face. Their volume growing louder with each word, uncaring of the fact that most of the Great Hall listening in with varying forms of amusement on their faces.

Hermione let out an exaggerated huff of breath and went to try to stop the redheads from fighting, but Harry's attention was drawn toward the disappearing figure of Veronica as she made her way out of the Great Hall under the cover of **three** people now yelling at each other.

Muttering a quick good-bye to Neville and the Weasley twins-who were betting on who would win the argument, which then turned into whether or not that would happen with or without Cursing, making Harry wonder if they even heard him-Harry made his way out of the Great Hall after Veronica's retreating back, calling out her name as he went.

"Hey, Veronica! Wait up!!"

She didn't seem to hear him, or if she did, it didn't matter as she sped up and darted around the corner ahead without even sparing a glance behind her. Harry sped up as well, hoping to catch her so he could finally find out what was going on between her and Ginny, and why it seemed like they were pulling away from everyone.

Unfortunately, he instead ran through Nearly Headless Nick, who was floating in the opposite direction as he muttered moodily under his breath. Harry always hated walking through ghosts; he personally saw them as a kind of wispy human and he always got angry whenever someone tried to walk through **him**, not to mention the fact that going through them always made him feel like a bucket of freezing cold water was dumped over him.

Shivering at the feeling he got from the contact, Harry looked down the corridor he just entered and swallowed down a groan of frustration: Veronica was nowhere to be seen and Harry knew there was no way to find her now.

"You seem to be having the same kind of day as I am, my dear boy," Nearly Headless Nick sighed, looking to all the world as if he life ended... again. "I take it the young female that ran through me not a minute ago was your intended prey? If so, why did you stop?"

"I-I wanted to apologize for running through you, Nick," Harry replied honestly, still rubbing his arms as he tried to warm them up, "The feeling also... shocked me still for too long..."

"Ah, I see," Sighing morosely again, Nearly Headless Nick tucked a transparent letter into his doublet as he floated to a nearby window to gaze out at the scenery, which seemed to pick up on his mood as the skies opened up to a downpour of rain.

Forgetting about the elusive Slytherin girl that had just outran him for the moment, Harry was struck by the fact that this was the first time he had seen the Gryffindor ghost in a foul mood; while occasionally annoyed by the nicknames the students gave him, Nearly Headless Nick was generally an easy going ghost-unlike his counterpart, the Bloody Baron.

"Um, Sir Nicholas?" Harry decided to call the ghost by his first name due to the oddity of his mood as Harry moved to stand beside the gloomy spirit, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, Harry, it wouldn't do to trouble you with my problems..." Nick stared out the window for a few minutes before spinning around so quick Harry was stumbling back so that he didn't accidentally run through the ghost again.

"Isn't getting hit with a blunt ax forty-five times in the neck enough to let me join the Headless Hunt?" Nearly Headless Nick demanded, pulling out the letter he stuffed into his doublet earlier, waving it under Harry's nose until he went crossed eyed trying to see what was written on it. "Don't you think that going through all of that prolonged pain would be enough?!?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Nearly Headless Nick wasn't finished with his rant just yet. "Apparently it wasn't; no, it was not good enough for those arrogant, pompous, properly decapitated berks! These heartless honchos who think they are so much better than I am because their head actually come off their bodies!"

Nick unfolded his letter, stopping its haphazard wave under Harry's nose and began to read:

"'_We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore._'"

Nick snapped his letter shut and stuffed it back into it's hiding place, muttering, "Only half an inch holding my head to my shoulders, Harry Potter, **half an inch**!!"

"W-well," Harry stammered, unsure if he should speak or not, "Your head is **still** attached though... It is a **Headless** Hunt, after all..."

Nick deflated at once, making Harry wish he hadn't said anything at all and just let the ghost rant. "Yes, of course, you are right..."

Feeling bad for bringing down Nearly headless Nick's mood, Harry wished he knew how to help the ghost, "Is there anything I could do to help...?"

Once again, Nick's mood did a one eighty so fast that Harry was starting to suffer from emotional whiplash. "Yes! There is something... No, you wouldn't to... It wouldn't be something you wanted to do..."

Harry decided to find out what the favor was before he agreed to anything, he wasn't really sure what a ghost would want as a favor or if it was physically possible for him to even do it. "What is it?"

"Well, this up coming Halloween happens to be my five hundredth deathday," Nearly Headless Nick announced proudly, drawing himself up so that he now floated near the ceiling.

"Oh," What exactly are you suppose to say to that? Was Harry suppose to be upset that Nerly Headless Nick died, or happy that his deathday was close, like he would for someone's **birth**day?

"I'm having a party in one of the roomier dungeons, with a few friends," Nick continued, unaware that of Harry's discomfort, "It would be an honor if you would come... You can bring the two Weasley children, Miss Granger and Miss Dathey as well, if you wish..."

The look on Harry's face must have shown his reluctance to go to a party in the dungeons, for Nearly Headless Nick almost immediately retracted his offer. "I daresay you would rather go to the feast with your friends instead. Forget I asked, Harry, it was just an idea-"

"No, no," interjected Harry, trying to preempt any more mood swings by waving his arms widely and grinning up at the Gryffindor ghost. "I'll go, I'm just not sure if any of my friends will want to."

"But you will come?" At Harry's nod, Nearly Headless Nick beamed widely as he started to gush, "Wow, Harry Potter, at my party... The-Boy-Who-Lived at my deathday party!! Oh, Harry?"

Harry, who had been on the verge of sneaking away while Nearly Headless Nick was in his gleeful cloud, paused when his name was called. _Damn, almost made it 'round the corner... _"Yeah, Nick?"

"Could you... could you possibly..." Nick was starting to look nervous, which made Harry pay closer attention to what was being said to him, "Do you think you and your friends could mention to Sir Podmore how impressive you find me? Maybe how frightening as well?"

"I'm not sure that will help, Nick.." The downward slope of Nearly Headless Nick's face had Harry quickly adding, "but it couldn't hurt to try, right? I'll make sure to make it sound real convincing!!"

Nearly Headless Nick starting to gush about having The-Boy-Who-Lived at his party again, which Harry took as his permission to leave. Smiling as he backed away, Harry turned and quickly made his way back into the Great Hall and his friends before Nick could finagle him into anything else.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were all back at the Gryffindor table; all of them were still a little red-faced, with Ron and Ginny sitting at opposite sides of the table. Neville was, surprisingly, collecting winnings from the Weasley twins... who looked utterly flabbergasted that they had lost a bet.

Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, both of them avoiding looking at the other, and waited for one of them to ask where he went. When no one said anything, Harry preceded to tell them about his encounter with Nearly Headless Nick and the fact that they all had been invited to his deathday party, Veronia re-entering the Great Hall as his tale started winding down.

"A deathday party?" Hermione was immediately excited by the prospect of learning something new, "How exciting! I bet there aren't many living people who say they've been to a deathday party!!"

Harry and Ron shared a look of utter confusion at the comment before Ron turned to Hermione and asked incredulously, "**Why** would **anyone** want to **celebrate** the day they **died**??"

Across the hall, Veronica suddenly started to giggle, causing everyone around her to ask what was so funny. The only coherent response that came from the girl was a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders.

Yep, it was official. Girls were **strange**...


End file.
